Heat has arrived in the little town and everything keeps it.
Brick, concrete, paved streets - even silence is warm as I step out onto the sidewalk just before midnight.
Something in this town is blooming. Some tree or flowering bush has been triggered by the heat, because suddenly the town is swimming in a sweet perfume.
There is nothing special about this town except for its absolute town-ness. The definition of an American town can be found in the crossword of the streets here. The trees mark the sidewalks with authority. Each building speaks with its own beautiful, old voice. Every molecule of the night air is frosted with the sugar from that unknown flower.
The summer night-town promises a boundless intimacy: everything here is yours.
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