Locally, I see a TV commercial where a man screams “I can’t take it anymore.” It’s ten-forty AM and my brain is tired. I recognize it is time to “walk away.” Too hot to work outdoors because it is already ninety-four degrees outdoors. I’ve made no progress in my search for the “France family” who came to my attention yesterday.
Ninety-six at eleven-twenty.
Ninety-eight at twelve-thirty.
One-hundred-one at one-forty.
One-hundred-three at three.
One-hundred-seven at four-forty.