Wednesday, July 19, 2006

Trip Mckenzie and the unbearable heat.

I think my face just slip right off the bone. I'm sure if I could see the growing puddle of molten skin on the floor in front of me I would feel quite sick. Luckily this isn't going to be a problem though; given that my eyes seem to have melted right out of their sockets too.

I guess this is going to brings its own share of problems, but for now I have to say I am quite grateful to not be thowing up all over the shop.

It's a pretty rough time of year for the river right now. Sure thing it gets to feel warm and kind for once, but really the river could happily do without this vague and passing feeling of fuzzy goodness if it did not have to suffer the greater indignities of summer. An increase in boats cutting through tis water and playing havoc with its painstakingly well-crafted currents; these idiots have no idea of appreciation of the artistry and pride that a good river puts into its cureents and its fluidity. No! They barge, unwanted into all places, with ridiculous metal and wooden tubs, drinking, shouting, acting like they are kings and queens of the river and destroying what they don't even see. Kings and queens...the river is noone's man.

Don't even start on the swimmers, stinking dry scrapy solid land skins. Give a river a duck anyday.

Worst of all though is not the people. Evaporation, thats the killer. I mean... just imagine half your body disappearing every time the sun comes out for a few days in a row.

No sir. A river's time of year is winter, cold, hard, violent and wild. Now that's a good water life.

The dancer faints on her feet and falls on her face. On stage, in front of 5000 people. The crowd are inspired more than they have ever been. The dancer, muscles fot and pliable as butter in this heat has been fortunate enough to fall into the otherwise impossibly controred shape of universal and absolute greatness, the sign of the pinnacle of reality. Bless this heat, the dancer should think.

Maybe when she wakes up.

I close my eyes, I fal asleep. 300 years later I wake up, summer is over and a new ice-age is starting. This could be interesting I start to hink. Right before a plar bear rips my face off with its massive paws and a reborn sabre-toothed tiger crushes my right leg in its mighty jaw.

Ah wel, if I'd hung around any longer I would only have complained about the cold and the poor company.

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