Autumn Heat Wave

Opening the freezer the blast of cool air rushes over her shocking her system. The sweat on her forehead momentarily stops streaming down her face, where it's been pooling in the crook of her collarbone. So much sweat. She's a human salt lick, the dog can't get enough of her. Every time she lays down on the ceramic floor he slobbers along the length of her arms and legs til she gathers enough energy to shove him across the tile and out of range. It's supposed to be autumn but this freak heat wave is more reminiscent of Chennai in January than Winnipeg in October. It can't be good. Everyone on the block struggles to replace the air conditioners they packed away 4 weeks earlier and trees that are crusty with dried up burnt orange foliage are starting to bud again. If this is what menopause is like Darcy's moving to Alaska. There are more men up there anyway. Four to one ratio, she heard. Maybe when she hits 50 she'll pick a winner. Lord knows she's a total cooler any place she goes these days. The stench of desperation and failure wafts from her pores like skunk spray off the Doberman. Shane wasn't much of a boyfriend but at least there was a warm body to turn her back to most nights. Except when he was off with some other lay of the day or in her car driving down to Nashville on a whim with Ben and Wayne to see some geriatric blues rock band from their high school glory days. Her car's never been the same. At least he left that behind. She still stumbles across random socks, crusty combs layered with flaky cheap hair gel and a never ending stash of tinned sardines in hot mustard. An entire crate from the bulk store she can't bear to throw out because it's a ridiculous waste of food. Even the dog turns up his nose when she cracks open a tin. This overbearing heat keeps her appetite at bay. Nothing but banana grape popsicles and iced peppermint tea with maple syrup. All that sugar's gonna rot your head, Shane would say. Then he'd grab the popsicle out of her mouth and eat it whole in three bites. Better off without him. Shame he took the AC with him, though. If she could just have found a way to survive another four weeks of insanity and crazy-making she'd at least have some respite from the portable AC unit. Prick.