The midnight heat created a film of sweat between me and my underwear. I couldn’t take it. I began dragging my mattress toward my parent’s bedroom. With my mattress pulled around me, I squeezed through their doorway. There was no door, just a sheet tacked over the threshold. My father’s grunts and moans drowned out… Read more »
Before air conditioning, I spent entire Yorkville summers with the lights out in our 517 East 83rd Street apartment. Mom could page through a calendar in the winter and start sweating when June, July, August flipped by, but Dad loved the heat. He slept under a pipe in the Navy. Made for nice conversation. One afternoon… Read more »
