★★★ Already, as the clock rounded nine, it was fiercely bright and humid. In the shade, the people waiting in their cars for the street sweeper still favored opening the windows over running the air conditioning, by a noticeable margin. The heat stayed; cumulus clouds appeared here and there. Tennis-ball-colored items coincided, glaring in the light, on the corner outside the Apple Store: a lace top, the trim on a motorcycle, striping on a pair of baggy athletic shorts. The mirrored face of the apartment tower captured a startling pileup of clouds off in the east. There would be no violent release of heat, though, no turn in the plot—just the sun descending through majestic masses of purple, the higher sky striped pink and blue.