Rising Steam

A steady plume of white vapor rose through the slotted iron of a circular ground grate. I stepped down from the timber block and closed the distance across the cold asphalt. Right at the rim, the air shifted from chill to heavy heat. I squared my stance and raised both red gloves into the rising column. The warm draft pushed past my guard, leaving a fine sheen of condensation across the vinyl and plastic. No rush to move. I held my ground over the metal bars, letting the heat thaw the morning dampness out of my joints.