I smell burning candle wax and steaming asphalt. Over-abundant adrenaline seems to crystallise. Water from the air settles on my skin to mingle with rising sweat. Later, I will smell rotting mud, feel queasy fatigue, and boredom.
Things are still. Sounds are the occasional whisper of a passing car or rattle of a truck, buzzing helicopters, and the wail of an evacuation alarm across the river somewhere.
I have company in my cat and a dear friend who has come to stay, for which I am breathlessly grateful.
Imagine how melodramatic I’d get if I was stuck here alone.