“Generally the first week in September brings the hottest weather of the year, and this was no exception. Overhead the fans turned slow, their paddle blades stirring the air up close to the ceiling but nowheres else...”
“A single three-bladed fan turned slowly in the centre of the ceiling, barely disturbing the scorching air which filled the small prefabricated hut like an oven...”
“There's nowhere else to escape to ... Except in a wooden box, that is.”
“When I am alone and my skull is ripsaw I want to jump into the womb of any bonfire, I want to leap into the ceiling fan head first, but I need that fan this coming summer.”
“The storms come and go, the waves crash overhead, the big fish eat the little fish, and I keep on paddling. (Varys)”
“Autumn seemed to arrive suddenly that year. The morning of the first September was crisp and golden as an apple.”