hot and dry

by Bella Rum

I know that rain still exist. I’m sure of it. I’ve read about it on other blogs. There are whispers on the wind about days passing without a single ray of sunshine, about torrential downpours, and the possibility of floods.

During the gold rush prospectors must have sent letters back east that described solid gold nuggets the size of hens’ eggs. The folks back home must have thought they were telling some tall tales. That’s how we’re feeling about rain here.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we could share? Send us your droplets and we’ll send you our sunshine.

It’s been eight years since I can remember a summer this dry and hot. The corn won’t make. It has tassels but ears will never produce. The stalks are brown from the ground up. Very sad for the farmers around here.

I heard thunder a few hours ago. It actually rained for less than a minute. I’m not kidding. Huge droplets fell for almost one minute. The road was dappled with water but not covered and it remained dry close to the curb. Not a drop hit close to the curb. Such a sick tease.

Our grass is brown. I refuse to waste water in this heat. Many neighbors have kept their lawns green, but I can’t justify wasting the water.

H looked horrible when he got home on Tuesday night. He looked like an old man. His skin looked strange; he was exhausted and lifeless. He drank two glasses of water and took a tepid shower. After relaxing in the air conditioning for an hour, he looked like a new man. I insisted suggested he take an extra thermos of water with him as long as this heat persist. He drank twice as much water yesterday. He looked and felt much better at the end of the day.

That weather person on the weather channel swears the heat will lift for a couple of days this weekend. From his lips to God’s ear. He says nothing about rain.

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