Doomed!

[rejectomorph]

Each time I see a bird flying today, I expect to see it drop to the ground, suffering heat stroke. The birds are probably aware of the risk. They mostly make short flights, from one tree to the next, taking refuge in the shade for a moment before venturing to another tree. Yesterday's clouds have vanished, and the sun blazes from perfect blue sky. Visually, the weather is marvelous, but best enjoyed through windows rather than at firsthand. Each time I venture out, I get the feeling that if I remain for more than a few minutes, even confining myself to the shade, my skin will soon begin to bubble and crisp like a pig's on a spit. So I sit and gaze out at the deserted street while being cooled by the air conditioner which sucks up energy, thus contributing to the greenhouse gasses which will, over the long run, exacerbate the heat I am avoiding. We are doomed.