Mrs.O's writing room.

The American dream evaporated in the unrelenting Philadelphia heat that July. My excitement to see the United States for the first time stewed and dried up. Open windows provided little relief from the hot air that stood stiff like a brick. It declined to dance or sway. Drenched in sweat I watched as cold beads of water - like tears slid down the side of the ice filled pitcher. If only I could shrink and swim in it.