Sweat explodes from every pore as soon as I step out of the air conditioned Toyota.
It beads on my forehead.
It races in rivulets down between my shoulder blades.
It cascades down my stomach and collects in my belly button.
It dives off my nose.
It coats behind my ears and on my eyelids.
It moistens all of those places that we would all prefer were dry.
Pop Tart Travels 