Fake Water

The heat wave that the radio and papers have been harping on about is finally here. It’s here, and my measly defenses are a block of suntan lotion and a floppy baseball cap. I’ve been sweating and swearing all day (casual swearing, not violent swearing. It’s hard to hold a grudge against nature).

The only thing I can look forward to is the heat haze phenomenon, or as I like to call it, fake water on the horizon. It’s a curious mirage. The mind interprets a refraction of light from the sky as a pool of liquid on asphalt, blurred and smeared in the distance. It’s an illusion that fades as you move closer, and yet if you’re driving on a long road, it’s always lingering at the edge of the horizon’s vanishing point.

This thick heat has my mind all wrapped up in wobbly thoughts. I wonder what other mirages have caught us under their spells, in the universe and in ourselves.

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