We’re getting busy behind the scenes—the kind of busy where the days bleed together with an assist from the weather. Storms come in the late afternoon to drown the world and the humidity index climbs so high that even when the rain lets up you’re soaked through the instant you walk out the door.
I’m trying to channel this energy onto the Hot Wax runway, where the prickling unease of oppressive heat (literal and metaphorical) sticks to the pages like glue. Sometimes a little pathetic fallacy is the best you can do.
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