This evil heat. My brain is wilting. I'm inside, and just looking around my house everything is bathed in a shimmery, mirage-haze. My dog sizzles like a frying egg when she lays down on the tile. I have to use a custom designed 36-inch spatula to scrape her up off the floor is she stays on one side too long. The whole house smells like singed hair and brimstone.
I know that sometime, a long time ago, I lived in a place where the water actually stood on the surface of this parched earth, or is that just the cruel imaginings of a mind brought to ruin by Desert Madness?
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