Summer Daze
It’s the height of summer and we’ve been enjoying the best of the bad weather. Floods, sleet, hail, rain! It feels like this city and it’s surrounding townships are being cleansed. The heavens opened up, heaving and pushing great bulbous gallons of water from her womb cleaning away the debris and years upon years of foul waste.
Away with the junk that has no mineral goodness and the boroughs that have lain stagnant baking in the sun or corroding in the drizzle are now being thoroughly scrubbed. I’m watching as this downpour launders the corners made round by the gathering of dirt and dust and endless examples of excess. Along each stretch of road and path the remains of litter cling like a layer of scabs holding fast to each surface.
You can smell the second layer - rank and buried beneath a weeping shell. Damp, musty and stale then it rises slowly to the surface.
I can see the shininess again, I can imagine how it will feel when the rain stops and the sun comes out - like gliding between fresh crisp sheets that smell like inhaling summer breeze or forest pine.
It feels overbearing right now, like depression that is at the brink of curling up and shutting down. It feels like a dead weight lit by a dead light. I want to scream that it might stop, but I’m holding my breath in believing that the rain will break by itself soon and the tension inside me will dissolve slowly with the first light that peeps out behind a cloud and the warmth as it tickles my skin.
I turn on all the warm lights in my home and wrap myself in comforters. If I can’t feel like happy summer, then I’ll recreate cosy winter.
It feels ok now. I’m still breathing and under these soft blankets it’s pretty and safe.
Away with the junk that has no mineral goodness and the boroughs that have lain stagnant baking in the sun or corroding in the drizzle are now being thoroughly scrubbed. I’m watching as this downpour launders the corners made round by the gathering of dirt and dust and endless examples of excess. Along each stretch of road and path the remains of litter cling like a layer of scabs holding fast to each surface.
You can smell the second layer - rank and buried beneath a weeping shell. Damp, musty and stale then it rises slowly to the surface.
I can see the shininess again, I can imagine how it will feel when the rain stops and the sun comes out - like gliding between fresh crisp sheets that smell like inhaling summer breeze or forest pine.
It feels overbearing right now, like depression that is at the brink of curling up and shutting down. It feels like a dead weight lit by a dead light. I want to scream that it might stop, but I’m holding my breath in believing that the rain will break by itself soon and the tension inside me will dissolve slowly with the first light that peeps out behind a cloud and the warmth as it tickles my skin.
I turn on all the warm lights in my home and wrap myself in comforters. If I can’t feel like happy summer, then I’ll recreate cosy winter.
It feels ok now. I’m still breathing and under these soft blankets it’s pretty and safe.
posted by Teaine at 8:00 AM
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