Dog days of August, Kansas City. Black vinyl bench seat in a candy-apple red, Detroit steel, 1969 Ford Fairlane. Sweat dripping down my scalp, pooling in the hollow of my collar bone. My t-shirt is damp and steaming and my thighs are frying on the seat. No air conditioning; I could roll down the window, but then I wouldn't be able to store this moment before heat exhaustion as memory-sensory residual heat to use later.
Later...like in January with the ice and frigid temperatures and wind chills below zero.
Maybe I should store the cold memories to draw on during summer. Nah!