In Seattle you need a fan to sleep well for less than a week a year, so the past two stuffy nights are making me wonder if we’re in for a hot summer or maybe just a false start. But for whatever grand reason I wore a tank top and jeans out the door at 8 last night and walked with D to the new custard place on 13th and Pike. Everybody was in the park, kids in the fountain. I mean the place was really alive. Basketball, baseball, soccer and kickball and kung fu all at once.

I got a cherry sundae, D got a rootbeer float, and we sat in the bleachers and watched a bunch of guys with beer bellies play kickball. The sky was pink, what we could see of downtown was pink, Mount Rainier was pink. It was so Tampa, so Phoenix.

The park was a watermelon, a slip-and-slide, a popsicle, sidewalk chalk–all the best reasons for summer to exist. And the fact that the sun can leave so fast around here made my ice cream, which really tasted the same as Dairy Queen, like frozen manna or something.

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