Boiled Carrot

Posted: August 1, 2016 in Uncategorized

Wait, July has already ended? No, that is enough of that. Such times for silliness have ended, and surely July is a very silly month, a time of extremes; when the intense heat of June has worn us weary, July smirks, flashes its teeth, and shows us that there is yet more to be felt, more energy to lose, deeper sunburns, an inability to sleep without 20th century comforts, without a private pool in which to suffer slightly less. The poor can be resourceful in the winter, they can burn anything that will, they can huddle themselves together and in layers of thick coats. In the summer, instead, even the richest of tycoons experiences a kind of mania, a cooking brain telling them to behave irritably, to do ill-advised things. And alcohol tempers this steel of madness, where once one said I will have a whiskey on the rocks to cool my throat, but it only built the bonfire higher. Now we have pandemonium surrounding our every day and the prayer is simple and short: Please God, Send Your Children December.

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