New York City, May 18, 2017

★★★★ “We all have shorts!” one of the early arriving kindergarteners exulted to the others. The breezes did what they could while the sun was still low, but once the light got down into the streets and sidewalks, the heat was blasting. Warm air pushed into the ears. A gutter full of water and garbage brewed up a stinking invisible cloud. A trash barrel overflowed with empty plastic cups from cold drinks. The view down Broadway to Union Square was lush with greenery; even the little street trees had a jungly aspect. A man waiting in line inside an air conditioned store had a blazer over his arm and his white dress shirt was translucent down the spine with sweat. A cloud capable of blocking the sun drifted with the slow majesty of transience. Music competed with other music through open vehicle windows. Fabrics were flouncing and shimmering; nobody held anything back. A couple kissed with humming and smacking sounds, in the thick of the pack of bodies on the 1 train.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.