Atmosphere

(I'm being positively prolific today, aren't I?)

The sky is yellow, and the trees and buildings are all cast over with the same shade. It's what happens when sunset mixes with heavy cloud cover.

The temperature's around thirty degrees Celsius and the relative humidity is over ninety. It will be a sticky day. And rainy, judging from the sky.

(Today will be like this, and yesterday was like this. It was always the same.)

Rainy mornings. Sweltering afternoons. Humid nights. Temperatures rise and then fall, often within hours. A day you thought would be chilly burns cancer into your skin. Welcome to the tropics.

Wake up in the morning. Clean up. Dress nicely. Five minutes outside and there is soot in your hair. Five minutes walking and perspiration seeps into your clothing. Five minutes more and you no longer notice the nitrogen dioxide.

Go to work or school. Do something, maybe nothing. Cold, dry air-conditioning seals the sweat onto your skin. Conserve energy. Take the lift up one level instead of the stairs, because the stairs are dusty and musty and dark and anything, anything to conserve the chill.

At the end of it all you are dishevelled, your morning's work all undone. The car is a death-trap of warm, stagnant air. The evening air is preferable. Back home through the gritty, sweaty streets.

Smoke wends its way from the satay stalls. Fried fish and quiet chatter, because the blanket of darkness dulls everything. The breeze blows, but it brings warm air, not relief. The houses look even older now, black-streaked from rain and weather.

Home at last, silent and breathless. The kitchen light is a sound, filling the emptiness. Oil on your face, sweat on your arms, mud on your socks, heat filling up your shoes. Soul filled with nothingness. Tomorrow is another day.

Ever wondered what it all means?