obtuse sensations remind me of being a kid. this morning it rained for twenty minutes before you left at seven thirty. i wiped the rain water off my bike seat and rode home.

 

the clouds had disappeared quickly. at eight the world was mostly still and perfect.

 

it's always so damp here, damp in the winter that shakes your bones to the marrow and damp in the summer that forms sweat through all available pores and you can go three quarters of a day without having to piss.

 

at eight o clock it was seventy one degrees. i sleep in too often to enjoy the best weather of the day. the heat chokes everything.

 

the lake pretends to be the sea. we rock the waters with a wake. i said, the world is only getting worse to which my mother replied, oh please, they've been saying that since i was a kid.