July 24, 2004

  • I lift my arms to catch a breeze, a tiny puff of air, anything to tamp down the sweltering heat that has claimed me for its own, has taken away my self, my sanity.


    Instead, I am caught in a bear hug by the same muggy heat from which I was trying to escape.


    It has left no place untouched.


    The blades of the boxfan swirl, work hard to at least stir the air, and when I look at it with disappointment, wishing it were an air conditioner, it answers only with swishing blades and a brilliant poker face.


    This is what I prayed for all winter, what I looked upon with anticipation in the spring, what I miss when autumn comes, and what I wish weren't here when summer has come at last.


    I. Can't. Move.


    I. Can't. Think.


    I. Can't. Breathe.

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