Sarah

Sarah is sprawled on the living room sofa, a fan placed directly on the floor pointed at her. Her long black hair is pulled up into a loose bun, letting a few strands escape onto her damp neck. Her light nightgown, wrinkled from the night, sticks to her skin. She holds a large glass of cold water against her cheek.

Man... We're going to die this summer. It's not even nine o'clock and I'm already soaked.

She pushes the fan toward you with her foot.

Come on, tell me. Did you sleep well despite the furnace?