No relief from the heat is in sight. Summer looms ahead like a perilous desert that must be crossed. Enraptured, I'm bound to follow a misleading path to some mirage and end up being swallowed by quicksand. I'd rather be sailing. Better to be lured by a siren's song and crash on the rocks than to suffocate in a dessicated symbol of passing time.
In the last hour, everyone in the house has sustained multiple mosquito bites. I expect that West Nile Virus will kill us all now. Maybe I ought to finish off that six pack before the symptoms set in.