That’s it. That’s the extent of my creativity today. That constant introductory topic; and then there’s a wall. It’s not even an interesting wall. It’s flat and beige and utterly without decorative or artistic merit, and 98% of my mind is behind it. I’m sitting on a flattened cardboard box in the doorway, blankly watching the day go by.
In my memory, Kage is sitting slumped and boneless in her armchair, in the white silk tropic jammies she wore on hot days, fighting the summer doldrums with the wind from the big standing fan and flipping through the Mexican soap operas – she loved those things. Especially the historical ones, with medieval costuming and modern hair styles. She’s listlessly debating whether it should be ice cream or Italian ices for dinner.
“Oh, screw it,” she finally decides. “It’s gin and tonic weather.”
And that sounds fine to me. Maybe ice cream and gin and tonics. Maybe ice cream in the gin and tonics.
It’s hot and dull, here in Los Angeles, in what passes for reality – other parts of the city are at least enjoying a battle for survival, as the humidity climbs toward 50% and the temperature to triple digits.. Out at the beach they’ve got a sort of boiling fog situation; and the San Fernando Valley is reaching for 104 at the moment while the sea-fog is already trying to sneak back over the Santa Monica mountains.
Here, though, it is just hot and dull. The air smells of hot dust. The sky is that weird flat pastel blue you ordinarily only see on VW Bugs – that special ugly shade, that seems to have undercoats of grey and yellow. The air is better than it used to be here in the Valley of the Smokes, but it still forms photoreactive smog on a hot day … all my furred and feathered friends look at me with glazed eyes that say, “We died of ennui and won’t come back to life until the sun goes down.”
I fear I am both bored and uninspired. I am going to go on a mad spending spree in the discount Kindle store, and curl up with iced coffee and a dozen books.
The rest of you stay cool!