Sweat pours into my eyes, and my Southern born and raised wife tells me I must be more still; the only movement is my fingers across the keyboard of my laptop. Time has stopped. It will always be this warm, this humid. I wish my skin off of my bones. The futility of a sigh escapes me.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Heat
The heat today is as solid as a wall, and walking outside I'm struck by the weight of the air. It oppresses any quickness, and what breeze there is barely moves the foliage. The sizzle of cicadas fills my ears like the sound of heavy meat frying in a pan. I slump into a chair beneath the shade of an umbrella, an unread pile of books on the table before me.
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2 comments:
You've captured my son's feelings these past several days. He HATES the heat. Well, honestly, so do I. This absolutely encapsulates my feelings of summer - heat, cicadas and the pile of books that was supposed to be decimated by now.
sounds like forced meditation... not sure where I stand on the whole heat thing, since I'm not allowed to experience any. The AC goes on as soon as the perceived temperature exceeds 72 degrees; I wear sweaters and shiver the whole summer. Wouldn't mind soaking in a few minutes of summer heat; might even appreciate the eternity of a hot summer day.
BTW, my word verification thingy is suessess. Is that like a female Dr. Seuss?
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