Sunday, 28 August 2005

Agua, agua

The heat arrives unannounced. Heavy, like an anchor dropping. No heraldry, just hypnotism. It sneaks up, like a sea turning from low tide to high in what seems like an instant; mesmerised by the waves I suddenly find myself drowning. Gently opiated, smothered by the weight of a thousand smooth blankets, it would seem the very oxygen has been sucked out of the air. Flesh touching metal is seared like tuna. Around me is the visible hum of ripe bodies.

A haze hangs, a Vaseline thumb-smear across the sky. Brittle tree-bones crack underfoot, and sweat dries as it forms, leaving dusty salt crystals on my skin. Dizzy leaves yellowhiteyellowhiteyellowhite fly in formation across my path; a child shaking a packet of crisps, an adult shaking a bottle of Goldschlager. Fighting torpor; torpor wins.

Somnambulant. I try to speak but I cannot muster the energy, only the zzz zzz of a worn-out battery. The dry hiss as a tap is opened but nothing pours forth.