A Long Hot One

Saw it coming far back as February. No, earlier: there was a single stray blossom on one of our camellias before the New Year. All the signs were for a mild winter and an early start to a long hot summer.

And a long and heated campaign season, full of deranged rhetoric and ugly posturing. Which city will riot this year? Who will die to distract us from the utter emptiness of the political process?

Already the grass has died back to its roots and the shrubbery is crisp with heat. Fuel everywhere, lying in heaps, just waiting for a spark. The city has signs out, warning people not to throw away cigarette butts. Discarded lives start fires too.

Available! High-Voltage Lines, Knocking from Inside