Day 746, July 18, 2022
Sweet Corn Season A heatwave has settled in the air wringing a moist towel over a crinoline earth. Glass drops glisten on the leaves of the rhododendron. The air inside the house is still. How can it still be hotter? You ask. The oil popping on the stove is the soundtrack to the rain through the screen door. You can feel walking through the living room, the air, in your lungs, on your face. The rain is only but a gentle kiss on the yellowed lawns, the naked rivers. It is like a day at the fair. Without the colored lights, rides, and fried dough. Without, without, without. The air makes me thirsty.