It's a hundred and 5ive degrees outside on the street.
The scent of asphalt melting reinforces my fear that, perhaps soon, my car and I will completely sink into Napa Hwy.29s soon-to-become "Tar Pits".
This traffic-sitting's taking wayyyy tooooo long for my brainmass which feels like it's beginning to bake.
All my cars' windows are wide open. I don't dare use the air conditioning; this car's nearly over-heating already.
The only water I've got is bottled and hot from sitting in the back seat sun while I didn't know it.
Now I begin hallucinating: a ssslow and long, cool, wet kiss to these brittle papyrus lips, rejuvenating the whole of me like drinking from a chilled tumbler with fresh slices of cucumber floating in iced water.
I lick these lips, but only taste salted sweat dripping down from this face. Yosemite Falls doesn't have as much moisture as this skull has sweating.
Glad for a recent haircut I reach back to retrieve the bottled water which, though hot, I de-lid and pour the waters all over my head.
Traffic is moving now. We're at 15 miles per hour, so I stick my head out the window hoping for some essence of breeze. Nada.
We all speed up to 20 mph. Then 25mph. Steady at 25, and a breeze whispers on my cheek as I again stick this noggin out the window.
Ahhhhh! 30 miles per hour. 35. 45mph! My car's heat sinks back down enough for safety. My head's heat sinks back down enough for sanity.
I reach home at last and let myself into a cooled, quiet retreat where, dropping everything and kicking off sandals, I collapse onto the couch, feeling that ssslow and long, cool, wet kiss pressing to these parched lips.
Someone's honking. I snap-to and see the green light, so I quickly put my car back into gear, accelerate, and finally head home for a chilled glass of fresh cucumber slices floating in iced water.
