Sweltering, slimy, sweat-drenched misery.
Pillow damp as the fan drowns you in a lukewarm river.
The fiery sacrifice to some wretched, demanding, ancient deity.
Car engines hum a faint putting sound over the whirring drone of the fan; together a symphony of carefree, sputtering children forming the tune as they go.
The muted carrot color of street lights falls across the room hurling inky shadows into abysmal obsidian corners.
Tossing, turning the maddening waltz toward comfort.
Left side, right, back, stomach, around again, until naked and sweaty you’re finally comfortable.
Stripped, drained, and contorted upon the altar, peace is made with the blistering god.
