Almost-summer nights
It felt like summer today. Have I mentioned that I hate warm weather? The heat, and the glare and the bright sun making the whole world into a blinding sheet of glistening concrete make me irritable. Walking around in public half-naked and drenched in sweat because it's the only way to avoid overheating is not my idea of a good time. I like to be comfortable. Not too hot, and not too cold. And it's much easier to do something about being too cold.
Today was unusually hot. The world was bright, the people drenched in sweat. There was nothing I could do to remain at the right temperature. But for all my complaints, when the sun goes down and night falls, I cheer up a bit.
Something about warm summer nights makes me feel alive. The smells of the city cling to the streets, making a swirling soup of frying grease, exhaust, pollen, dust, grime... all the stuff that makes me feel at home. The wind, when it blows, blows warm and lazy. You can almost taste it.
I'm not the only one invigorated by the dark warmth, either. Teenagers come out in throngs. drunken party-goers head to or from a gathering, happy and harmless. The night its self comes alive. I'm reminded of the Festival days in the city, years ago, when the streets would be thronged with tourists and food stalls. The air would be thick with spices and excitement. That was before the city decided to cancel the festivals.
In this city, tourism's the big game. The money comes from tourism, the work comes from tourism, hell, this whole damned place is just a self-made vacationing spot. Having an arts and music festival in the early summer every year seemed like a good way to support the city, but as the event grew more popular, it also grew more crowded, and, somehow, despite them raising the ticket prices every year, it grew more expensive to put on.
Rumor has it they'll one day bring it back. Until then, the tourists have to be content wandering around in the calm summer nights of Vic City, and probably, like me, wishing there was just one damned shop open at this time of night.
You'd think everyone around here went to bed at six.
Today was unusually hot. The world was bright, the people drenched in sweat. There was nothing I could do to remain at the right temperature. But for all my complaints, when the sun goes down and night falls, I cheer up a bit.
Something about warm summer nights makes me feel alive. The smells of the city cling to the streets, making a swirling soup of frying grease, exhaust, pollen, dust, grime... all the stuff that makes me feel at home. The wind, when it blows, blows warm and lazy. You can almost taste it.
I'm not the only one invigorated by the dark warmth, either. Teenagers come out in throngs. drunken party-goers head to or from a gathering, happy and harmless. The night its self comes alive. I'm reminded of the Festival days in the city, years ago, when the streets would be thronged with tourists and food stalls. The air would be thick with spices and excitement. That was before the city decided to cancel the festivals.
In this city, tourism's the big game. The money comes from tourism, the work comes from tourism, hell, this whole damned place is just a self-made vacationing spot. Having an arts and music festival in the early summer every year seemed like a good way to support the city, but as the event grew more popular, it also grew more crowded, and, somehow, despite them raising the ticket prices every year, it grew more expensive to put on.
Rumor has it they'll one day bring it back. Until then, the tourists have to be content wandering around in the calm summer nights of Vic City, and probably, like me, wishing there was just one damned shop open at this time of night.
You'd think everyone around here went to bed at six.