the sunlight glows on floorboards casts shadows of chair legs and I stare from out my teacup of coffee, remembering what it is for that light to burn you. for that light to be enough to set fire to the skin when summer comes and the thermometer hits 80, 90, 100 degrees then that sunlight casting shadows cross the dining room scorches. even the cats retreat. I miss that heat I long for it. I am waiting to be brought back to the point of boiling.