Snoopy has taken his typewriter off the roof of his doghouse, gone inside, shut the doors, turned on the fan, and put the typewriter on the desk. He's made bottles of sparkling water and put them in the refrigerator. He's taken a glass of ice water with a slice of lemon, sat down in the breeze from the fan, and stared at the blank page in the typewriter. If only there were a dark and stormy night! Then the heat wave might break. At a loss as to what to do, he leaves his doghouse, walks through the hot sun, and sighs with relief as he gets on the air-conditioned tram. (Andrew Shields, #111Words, 23 June 2026)