Outside, thought a word it: air temperature perfectly hot cold. One de — Lionel Shriver, Post-Birthday World

Norway Timelapse
PlayPlay

previous arrow
next arrow
Norway Timelapse
Budapest Timelapse
Iceland Timelapse
Berlin Timelapse
London Timelapse
previous arrow
next arrow

Outside, she thought that there ought to be a word for it: the air temperature that was perfectly neither hot nor cold. One degree lower, and she might have felt a faint misgiving about not having brought a jacket. One degree higher, and a skim of sweat might have glistened at her hairline. But at this precise degree, she required neither wrap nor breeze. Were there a word for such a temperature, there would have to be a corollary for the particular ecstasy of greeting it – the heedlessness, the needlessness, the suspended lack of urgency, as if time could stop, or should. Usually temperature was a battle; only at this exact fulcrum was it an active delight.

Lionel Shriver, The Post-Birthday World

Related Authors: Lionel Shriver | The Post-Birthday World

Related Topics: happiness, temperature

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *