Its midnight, the heat sits on my skin like a lazy teenager. I had long switched off the screens and rested my head on a lukewarm pillow.

Miserable.

Sleep evades me like a nerdy teenager, looking for a date to the prom.

Ice chips!

They circle in my mind’s eye, promising to cool, at least my tongue.

My Roshan and Biscayne Bay fans continue to recycle the hot air, as I make my way to the tiny kitchen. With a huge chunk of ice in each palm, I clap them together to make smaller bits.

Soon, I was back to lounging in bed with an ice chip to each jugular vein.

Almost, heaven.