Wait! Don’t do this! What do you mean, summer’s over? We never had summer. This is how it happens here: you never really get warm, and then it’s cold again.
Yesterday I had a happy stupid thing occur. A few weeks back, I’d found a lump inside my neck. Since it didn’t go away, it had to be a tumor on a lymph node, right? I made an appointment with a surgeon. Immediately my spirits lifted; at least I’d finally freaking know. Another thirty minutes on the Internet to check those symptoms once again? Why, sure—and this time I discovered I’d been palpating one end of my hyoid bone. That’s the thing your tongue’s attached to, a perfectly normal goddamn piece of necessary stuff. So I’ve been inventing things to die from. The autumn of my life needs work, I tell you.
I’m not like the weather that cycles through the seasons every year. None of this “Next year, we won’t do that stupid shit!” One fall is all I get, as far as anybody knows. I finally get it figured out and then I’m at an age where people write you off because you’re almost dead. Gahh! I have to run the table from here on out, draw a streak of winning hands to take me to the grave if anything’s to happen.
Next year? What year?! Now! It doesn’t matter I missed basking in the sun. Anyway, perhaps I didn’t. Memory is funny that way, changes in an instant, incontrovertible, solid, different than it was before, and we don’t even notice. You can’t count on anything except what’s happening right now, and even that has devil fingers in the pie! The only thing I know is what I feel. I get up in the morning, stagger to the living room, and kiss my lovely wife. Pay attention! This is it!
Tomorrow never comes, it’s just a dream.