The cheap metal fan didn’t seem to be making much headway against the sticky Georgia heat. Diana collapsed in front of it regardless, spent from carrying the last of her boxes from the car up to her new apartment. Last summer hadn’t been so hot, she thought to herself. Of course, last summer she had been in Seattle, so it only made sense. Realizing the fan wasn’t going to cut it, she grabbed a piece of scratch paper and scribbled on it. One last trip downstairs wouldn’t kill her, and she took them two at a time to hang her note in the lobby downstairs: