A Hot Day

I can feel the scorching sweat seeping into my skin again, and the sun glaring down at me, sizzling me like an egg on a fry pan. The sun, ever so big and ever so powerful today, is reaching its frying arms right down onto my face, my arms, my legs, me.

I open the screen door, thoughtless, mindless—both taken away by the heat of the mighty sun and merciless weather.

My back raining from the unwanted warmth the backpack gave me.

But, no fear!

As I open the door, I can feel the cool air rushing out to meet me already. I can feel, just by touching the other side of the door, the in side of the door, that it is a cool, refreshing, invigorating place to be. And immediately I rush in, closing the door carefully, of course, and throwing off my backpack. Kick off my shoes. I look around, feeling the coolness seep into me. But the power is not strong. I am still sweating, and heat is still felt.

Looking around and realizing I am the only intelligent living soul in the house, I peel off my shirt and pants and change into my gym shorts right there. I run upstairs and put on a tank top, letting the cool air brush past me as I run. I throw the used clothes in the laundry basket, and run to the bathroom.

I take my glasses off and place them beside the sink. I turn the cold water on, all the way, and run over to get a hairband to tie my hair. I come back, and feeling with my fingertips that it isn’t cold enough, lose my patience and wash my face anyway.

The cold water, touching my scorching skin, my red hot skin, my melting skin—relieving it of all memories before. And as the water gets colder, I am almost smiling because it feels so—so chilly and refreshing. It feels like heaven, that place everyone finds so peaceful and forgiving. I splash the frigid water onto my neck, onto my face, letting it drip down and seep into my skin. I put my arm under the faucet, just for the fun of it, the coolness of it. I am all wet, my clothes are wet, but I don’t care. All that matters is that now, it’s not hot.

After a long session of splashing myself with the best water you can ever splash yourself with, I run all around the house—hey, nobody’s home, so why care? I’m blind without my glasses, but it doesn’t matter. The Fuzzy Objects are of no importance now. Carefully navigating so that I don’t bump into sharp things, I run around, arms wide out, like a little kindergatner playing airplane or superman. I run around like superman, but I’m much cooler than he. Let the breeze of the air conditioned air freeze the remaining droplets of water on my skin, twirl around until I’m dizzy, run around some more, and then run back up the stairs to wash my face cold again.

This time, the water’s immediately cold, so I use a plethora of it on my face, an abundance on my neck, and a cornucopia of it for my arms. Leaving the cool water dripping on my arms, I put my glasses back on and run downstairs. I long for a cool, icy popsicle, that could make my insides all cool too. But when I get to the freezer, I have another idea. I open it wide, and stick my head in. The misty air is freezing the moisture on my face, and I close the door as much as it can go, so that all the freezing air can stay here. The feeling, the whirring of the refrigerator, the slow moving chilly air, the biting cold holding onto my cheeks and forehead, it’s all a wonderful, bliss moment. I close my eyes. Relief.