It started slow.
Waking up burrowed in blankets, the perpetually open window and ever-running box fan bringing a chill to the room that would have been lusted after just a day earlier.
Outside, gray clouds coat the sky and a breeze quakes the brilliant blooms. You tilt your head up and wonder how the region survives months of this - but so much worse. It’s the time of year when collective amnesia hits hardest; we cannot fathom days without the bluest skies, the most idyllic warmth, the brightest sun, and when confronted with their sudden absence we are both baffled and bereft.