Hell Above, Heaven Absent

The fire descending from the sky, the scorched mind, begging for the ethereal water. All thoughts closed in a small burning casket, where no air seems to be allowed. The deserted brain yells for relief, the body shivers under gusts of heat.

I loathe hot weather. Give me a cold beer, please. Otherwise, I will change into a dry scarecrow. I miss the winter, the beautiful snowy landscape of forest behind my window. Now even trees beg for a solace.

How many months? Only a few. I count the days until the first frozen pattern painted by frost on my pane…

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