Let the skin burn.

In Scottsdale, the speed limit is fast. And everyone goes faster. Because everyone has nice cars. And nice cars go fast.

In Scottsdale, everything is beautiful and fits perfectly in place. Clouds aren't allowed in this sky. The sun beats through anything.

We drive fast and I lose all control of my hair in a black convertible. The feeling is liberating. I've been in a state of oblivion since I arrived, having no idea where I am or where we're going or how to get around. In the desert, everything looks the same. I take in the scenery. I have no bearings.

I stepped into lives of people I don't know. Observed them, joined them, and I already love them. Three days won't be enough of them. Enough of this. I feel like I've been smiling since the plane touched down. Smiling and warm. Smiling, warm, and accepted.

And the heat. I've been cold for nine months. 112 degrees feels lovely. I've found for myself nothing short of a paradise.