Too much heat is not safe for anyone and I like staying cool. This heat is even riskier if you are older or have health problems like I have. I made mistakes, I lost my house and I had to declare bankruptcy, but I never thought that I would end up living in a god-forsaken hut on desolation row. I endured a loveless marriage, a job that never went anywhere, a family full of assholes and bastards, but living is this hut has become the rock bottom point of my life, a symbol of my complete disaster and constant humiliation. There is no furniture, the rotting leaves on the roof stink to high heavens, there is actually moss growing on the floor and you can’t make this stuff up. The raccoon ate my hat and I ran out of weed. What I wouldn’t do for another hit, but there are some lines that I won’t cross, as I will always remain a heterosexual person.
Written for Linda G. Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday where this week the prompt is hat, het, hit, hot, hut.