The clear front door shuts behind me with a bang. The sudden heat warms my cooled body. Like a cavern, the sky covers me; it’s a dark dank gray, the colour of iron. It shudders restlessly. The stale air clogs my throat and makes my summer clothes stick. I’m alone today, no one home. A light almost-dead breeze runs it`s invisible fingers along the thick tree branches but does little to comfort me. It`s a ghost town, no dog walkers trailing the sidewalks, no cars on the dry street that billow up more dust or people sitting around their houses. It`s just me and the darkening day. I move soundlessly to the red tiles in front of my house and my memories come alive. Two little girls come sprinting into the empty yard in front of me. They move with no grace and jerky steps but their wild dance is captivating. They run and yell and spin and chase the other of the two. One of them, the tallest, throws her hands in the air while her hair, long and straight dances to its own tune as she cartwheels and somersaults. The smaller one with short kinky hair laughs but watches attentively. But still they move as the humid world pulses on. As they play, they transform, growing bigger and older. The unwanted baby fat vanishes and they shoot up in height and soon they are gone, with only me in my place on the red tiles, waiting patiently, for the upcoming storm.