Chapter 77

• [Primus]
• The first indication that I am no longer on the Emerald Coast is the lack of ocean. The ocean is a palatable thing, it adds a texture to the air, a sound, a taste. No matter where I am on the coast, I can always hear the sea. The sound of waves hitting the sandy beach and jutting rocks is a soothing balm in the background of my life. I feel lost without the sound. There is nothing like being along the coast, which is one of the reasons I have spent so much of my adult life living there.
• The second indication I have is the temperature. Wherever I am, the heat is so intense, that my body is both boiling and dry, like a chicken roasted inside a brick oven. It is a dry heat, the kind that you find high in the mountains or desert plains. This means I am inland, nowhere near a body of water, except for a small river. The air is so dry and hot that the breeze blowing through the windows does nothing to relieve my flushed skin, wet with sweat. The gentle winds of the coastline are always cool and moist. This air is far too dry, too abrasive against my aching body, which feels raw and sore.