The heat is unbearable. And having nothing to do makes it hard to ignore. I pretend to work as sweat runs down my back. It collects in the crack of my ass. I scratch. I guzzle cold water like I was found wandering the desert. But this is no ordeal, it’s life, and the landlord is always waiting.
Lovers in swan shaped boats paddle along the canal. The late afternoon sun shimmers on the surface. Hordes of people wander the banks in various states of undress. They walk dogs and hold hands and hurriedly eat ice cream before it drips down the cone. Simple pleasures cure the lives we lead.
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