It's supposed to be cooler today but I'm skeptical. At dawn, when the cold night air still had heft and mass, still stung, there was this warm little breeze. Not even a breeze, really, but a breath, a drift, a flow. Warm air, twining. And then this sun, twisted in the clouds so if you looked without thinking sunrise, it seemed to drop, sizzling, into the sea.

Next entry: Big wind
More by Veronique de Turenne:
Layers of green and wetSigns of Saturday: Falling rocks
Flights of pelicans
Hey, sweet pea
The writing on the wall
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