Gunner At The Beach by Leslie Goth
Oh, it's hot. Oppresive, moisture laden heat. This kind of heat has only one enemy; the box outside. The air conditioner. Can it really condition the air? It won't answer, if I ask. It's metal cover mocks me, as the super heated housing sends wave after wave of shimmering heat into the already baking atsmosphere.
The metal monster will cool the air inside my home, and make a body comfortable, but, I dispise living inside a good part of the year. My garden is abandoned, early morning and evening walks are forgone. The only salvation from the heat is the pool, or the beach, and I prefer the ocean.
In August, the sea is luke warm here, like a baby's bath. Breezes, too, are warm as they pour in over the sand, but make the water feel cool, and crisp, as it drips off my self. The breeze, on water crystals, deprive the sun of its power, and it becomes the Lightgiver, alone.
Oh, it's hot. Oppresive, moisture laden heat. This kind of heat has only one enemy; the box outside. The air conditioner. Can it really condition the air? It won't answer, if I ask. It's metal cover mocks me, as the super heated housing sends wave after wave of shimmering heat into the already baking atsmosphere.
The metal monster will cool the air inside my home, and make a body comfortable, but, I dispise living inside a good part of the year. My garden is abandoned, early morning and evening walks are forgone. The only salvation from the heat is the pool, or the beach, and I prefer the ocean.
In August, the sea is luke warm here, like a baby's bath. Breezes, too, are warm as they pour in over the sand, but make the water feel cool, and crisp, as it drips off my self. The breeze, on water crystals, deprive the sun of its power, and it becomes the Lightgiver, alone.
No comments:
Post a Comment