Everyone is dancing in glue.
Everything takes longer than it should.
Green grass requires gallons of water on a consistent basis.
So do the Hibiscus blooms, the petunias and all manner of green on the beloved back deck.
Air conditioners sing their very expensive songs without ceasing.
Sweat comes easy.
Business slows to the minimalist efforts.
Ice cream melts before it can be eaten.
The sun is blistering.
I LOVE IT!
Sitting on the beloved back deck in black running shorts, I laugh watching the neighbor water her grass because she keeps squirting herself trying to position the sprinkler to the exact right position.
Finally giving up she holds it above her head baptizing herself in coolness, completely unaware I'm watching the grey tank top she's wearing turn translucent becoming one with her pasty white skin.They're desperately trying to sell the house and return permanently to Philadelphia because it's too damn hot here.
Their dream retirement home turned into Hell on earth.
Everything's fine until Credence Clearwater Revival's traveling band takes a 737 out of the sky causing my neighbor to jerk her head in the direction of the music and sees me here with Winston, The Little Gay Dog, working on our tans.
She doesn't wave or wish me a good morning as she covers herself to run inside though I do hear her pronounce her opinion of my lineage.
I wave.
A slight ocean breeze kicks up and the squirrels decide it's time to play in the Palm Trees.
"May as well water the flowers," I say out loud and Winston, TLGD, looks at me and shrugs.
"HERE KITT
Y, KITTY, KITTY," my other neighbor screeches and feral cats across Tybee Island awaken.
"Let's go inside and see what Sarah's doing," I say opening the sliding glass door. "It's starting to get crazy out here."
