Sunday, September 19, 2004

Hot Night

   Not a languid, sticky summer evening. Instead a sundown that came with the temperature still rising. A constant, relentless hot breeze making the flag point due north. Up at the lake, everybody is in the water, even the older folk who welcome the warmth on aching limbs and welcome the darkness on sagging torsos. The water is cooler, but one must remain submerged to escape the heat. Voices that usually carry in the evening stillness are rendered unintelligible. It as if the world is on fire, and the flames are coming nearer - perhaps only day or two away - and we are the last remnant of our foolish species.

   Finally, we head to shore. To try to sleep in tents, cabins, trailers, but only to doze fitfully,  enveloped in the hot, dry wind.

By Professor Batty



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