It's Hot
What happens when you subject anything to heat? Class? It expands. It’s my theory it was even causing Time to expand today. I’d been working away in my air-conditioned cell awhile. Figured it must have been about three hours since I’d shown up. Looked at my watch and it said 9:00! I almost threw myself to the floor in abject disbelief. Fie on thee, oh slow hands!
After slogging my way through the rest of the day it finally came to an end.
You have to be careful walking across parking lots with rubber soled shoes. They’ll melt and instantly bond with the blacktop if you tarry too long in one spot. Depending upon the quality of the shoe, you’ll either be stuck there or, after the sole and upper portion separate, you’ll find out the true meaning of “hotfoot.”
No lie. I walked out to my car to head home. I placed my Coke on my T-Tops so I could get to my keys. As I open the door I thought someone had been using my car as a furnace. I feared my zipper had been welded shut. To top it all off the Coke can exploded. Not only was it hot outside but now I was very much steamed myself. I never wanted the blasted T-tops/environmentally-friendly griddle in the first place.
I arrived home in a sustained state of coolness. As soon as I opened the door, heat rushed me like a stampede of degrees. There’s only one possible explanation. Heat must be running from itself. I fiddled nervously with my zipper.
This heat rumbled in here on Saturday. It made sustained outdoor activity something to avoid at all costs. I’d step outside to move the sprinkler and the heat would try to invade all of my bodily orifices. Once again, I thought it must be trying to get away from itself. I felt so . . . dirty afterwards. Of course, that had more to do with the sweat-a-thon that broke out during each trip outside than my being violated by both Fahrenheit and Celsius.
It was so bad it almost ruptured my sense of neighborly responsibility. Cut my grass? I was afraid a spark from the lawnmower might ignite it and, in a flash fire, we’d have barbequed Polock.
It was getting to the animals as well.
The cows no longer tried to keep the milk cool by standing teat-deep in the pond.
Buzzards were daring snakes to try and make it across the four-lane blacktop. If one tried . . . Hey! It’s dinner and a show for the buzzards!
That gives me an idea. I think I’m going to grill out tonight. Not because I want food prepared that way. I think it might be cooler huddled by the lit grill.
Somebody tell me, how many more days till the beginning of Winter? After today, we’re one more closer.
© 2006 Michael Wicinski