Prose

NO, I DON’T WANT TO GO!

It’s minus 0 when I’m plunged into 40ºF and then into the surrounding atmosphere somewhere between 98ºF and 102ºF. Try as I might I can no longer see my breath but I feel yours. I don’t want to be this close to you right now. You have no sympathy for my fragile state of well being. Your hands of Hades fresh from Hell, grabbing my deep freeze frozen heart. How dare you! I was desperately trying to stay cool, now I’ve been employed to help others do the same. You couldn’t have just found a way to stay at my place, oh no! You had to pound me out of my existence. I can hear and feel myself crack under the pressure, can’t you? Little by little my diminutive state becomes less, or, is that more? I’m sweating to beat the band. Each drop sliding off the glass into a puddle. Is that me? Is this all for not or soon to be forgotten?
Your lips spell doom!