Announcing General Strike

It's too hot. I've given up. My trip on the RER B last week was like receiving mouth-to-mouth from the entire car. For forty-five minutes. Only two windows that would open. After twenty minutes, I felt sweat dripping down my leg, and realized that it wasn't my sweat.

I've started walking. Everywhere.

In sum, I have no choice but to go on strike. More stories once this city's ready to put a couple layers of clothing between us.