And he lived in a city licked by the big yellow dot in the sky. Constant waves of heat permeated inside his stuffy apartment regardless of air conditioning. He sweat through his clothes daily, the habit of changing shirts annoyed him to the point where he had a designated sweat rag--ask him about it and he wouldn't admit to the habit, despite heat being a prime excuse for behaviour that would count as bizarre in other circumstances.
He held his head in his hands, squeezing his palms against his eyes until he saw stars and blinked them open. Once. Twice. Three times.
He couldn't think in this heat.
He turned his head up to the rippled ceiling of his apartment. If he looked hard enough tiny little black and white swirls will peak out of the white paint and crash into one another before his eyes.
It looked like a blank page. For the second time today he opened his mouth to speak to no one in particular but himself.
A cool something touched his face. He felt like crying. Finally, some reprieve from the heat. He turned his head away from the dancing ceiling spackle and turned to look at a familiar face, one that made his stomach lurch and his heart do the same. He stared at the figure, and it said something to him. He knew what it was, but it took him a long moment before looking up at the ceiling again.
The thing gripped his chin and pushed his face a little more forcefully towards its face. Warm drops dripped down the sides of his cheeks while he turned towards it again. It had once again repeated what it had said, and he once again turned, with greater difficulty, to the ceiling.
His eyes followed the, now slowing, movements of swirls on the ceiling. More warm drops falling down the sides of his cheeks. He made a movement to wipe it off before his face was forcefully turned, his body jerking at the force, yet again towards the thing. It repeated what it had said a final time. He understood. Didn't it get that?
This time he didn't turn to the ceiling again. Instead he reached for its face, his hand going straight through. At this he choked out a sob and whispered an "I know" before turning his head back to the ceiling. The swirls stopping, and his vision pure white.
