The heat is truly daunting. It’s beyond small talk and normality, as it scorches everything. We all haste to the nearest body of water, tongues out and desperation in our eyes. The world has suddenly become an oven, and we are being roasted alive. Energy is at a minimal, and so is clothing. Sweating replaces conversation, and breathing is sparse.
The beer is exhilarating on my cracked lips. Today it is my fuel to counter the extremities. Today it is my conversation, my connection with these people. My very own distraction. A socially appropriate convenience in a bottle.
Doing nothing and everything in the same breath. Waiting for the safety of night under a broken roof. Windows cannot be opened wide enough, as escape is not a viable option. Watching the crackling of movement from a distance and slowly losing the hours. The company has left, one by one, but the heat remains. The intensity is less, but we are still very much on the menu. Be fucking sure of that.
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