Yesterday was hard for me – and for many others too. Today? Even harder. I can quite see why the Underworld Realms were given extremes of flaming heat in ancient mythologies, and why roasting of humans is an archetypal religious punishment.
I struggle with high temperatures, especially in this country. But it is not just the physical suffering that has pre-occupied me over the past twenty-four hours: I have descended into a demon-packed Hell of my own, a place crammed with trident-bearing, horned nasties which poke and taunt and whip and find other ingenious ways to attack the edifice I am trying to build post-divorce.
I barely slept last night. The heat, despite open windows and doors and three showers, was borderline unbearable and has brought in its sullen train the whole host of buzzing, biting, itch-inducing insects that make the nocturnal world so vile at times. When you…
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