IT came last night. IT will stay until sometime in October, when the last throes of hurricane season melt into the Atlantic. That IT came so late is both a surprise and a blessing. Usually, IT infiltrates this coastal plain in the early parts of May, sometimes even in April. And once IT comes, IT stays. IT's oppression never relents, not even for a day.
You sad, deluded friends in the Midwest think you know about IT. I used to think that, too. Until I moved here. You anticipate afternoon storms that bring relief, and you think your experience is universal. I scoff at such folly. Thunderstorms here feed IT like electricity on King Kong.
You Floridians think you know about ITtoo, but the pleasant coastal breezes blow not here. Only the folks in Louisiana, D.C., and the rain forests of South America have anything to say to me about IT.
You may think of densely suspended particles of dihydrogen monoxide as merely a banal chemical compound. Here, we think of IT as a oppressing force—not a living, breathing creature—but an ominous, invasive, silent killer that sucks life and breath from all creatures.
If this blog dies, you'll know what slew it.