Large towers shot above the flat dry land around us, offering modest shade from the big open sky. Everything here seemed big: the towers; the city grid; its streets and parking lots. A seemingly quick jaunt across the city center was better traveled by light rail. Short walks became longer than anticipated, and in that heat, we desperately sought air-conditioned refuge—and some water, too, while we were at it.
Into the shopping center and through its labyrinthine corridors, we scurried into the food court like overheated mall rats running to an oasis. “I really needed that,” I tell him after a swallowing a big gulp of cold water. Even the chair felt cold from the AC, and I pressed my hot limbs against its cool surfaces.
We sat at our small table for a few minutes to rest. Families and teenagers with more energy than us flocked around the food court. The cleaning crew swept through to keep the place spotless. I finished my water and looked up at the sun pouring through the glass ceiling and onto my empty water bottle, distorting light across my palms. I look at him, sufficiently relieved from the outdoors, and nod. “Okay, let’s go.”