You are a body among bodies. A body with sweat that seeps from you, building beneath your clothes, making your hands slick. You wipe the sweat from your temples, but the oil seems to smear across the surface of your skin. You remind yourself to take a shower as soon as you get home.
Your body pushes, presses up against other bodies beside you as you ride the escalator to the Skytrain platform. You shift your weight, peel your skin off of the woman at your side. A patch of skin is sticky with sweat where her body clung to yours. Your whole body is sticky, in fact. The air seems to cling to you like soaked cotton sheets, wrapping between your limbs, pulling your shoulders toward the floor. You strain your muscles, struggling to keep upright.
It’s not much longer, you tell yourself. Not much longer until you reach the platform. Not much longer until you see M.