My Cannibal Summer

Hurricane season is upon us. Heat is the agitation of molecules. Today it’s raining, and my car is lonely as an empty swimming pool. Like a lost pilot, I drive myself around and around, although I don’t know where I’m going. All I can hear is black and white noise. Yesterday, I combed my hysterical hair, so I looked like someone based on real events. When I applied for the lifeguard job, I told them I prefer select flesh, and I never let the weather bother me. Was Amelia Earhart’s body ever recovered? I’m pretty sure there is still time.

From Guest Contributor Brad Rose