In a sauna, Athena's concentration wandered off like the trail of sweat falling down the underside of her arm. Conversations were muffled or obscured. Or on second thought, it was more as if they were distorted like a fisheye lens.

"Yuh, I'm ok," she managed to enunciate coherently, though perhaps more out of defiance.

She sat slumped in a corner, a bit off the corrugated wood panels. She looked sloppily into people's eyes as they spoke coolly. Something about the rail strike or was it a new gallery exhibition? Their faces were basking in hedonism, making love to the humidity.

It was almost too much to glance at their exposed nakedness—flashes of breasts and penises, unsupported, unashamed, without any flaws. Streaks of flesh – peach, ruby, caramel – danced together in the air, suspended by transpired sweat. A merry-go-round of pornographic images played to slowed-down chatter.

"I need some air," the words clumsily fell from Athena's drooping mouth. She walked into the swinging door, her right foot found the step and her left foot relieved itself momentarily on the frost tipped grass.

The next thing she knew she was on all fours, her backside pointed at the sauna and a thick towel was being wrapped on her back by a pair of concerned hands. "That's right, breathe deeply." It was Henna. She instructed Athena to sit on the grass, knees up with her head in between.

"She's going to be fine, just needs to cool off," and the door made a thud as it closed.

The moon seemed closer to earth—its glow as life-giving as the sun's shine. It's often the loudest that get heard, she thought. Cold of the grass melted against Athena's cheeks. Their blades tickled and poked her arsehole. Silhouettes of bare trees surrounded her as if in an embrace. Wind circling above groaned in some subtle ecstasy.

Athena found her shoes and navigated home.