Summer Heat Version 0.6.1 ((exclusive)) Official

By late afternoon the air tastes of ozone and cut grass. The grocery-store ice machines cough and spit out crystalline refuge; kids trail behind adults with sticky hands and the moral certainty that popsicles are a proper currency. The bakery’s tempered light smells of sugar and heat-hazed yeast, ghosts of pastries collapsing into butter-sweet memories on the counter.