MARA MARA

MARA MARA

Beat the Heat? With what? A spoon, poke it with a fork, slice the humididdy with a knife? Put on Michael Jackson and dance naked in the walk-in cooler? We could dance to disco!

No. Never. Nope. The 80s are as dead as your great-grandfather.

What will we do then?

Work all night then sleep all day ... under a fan ... with the a/c on blast.

Like we always do? The a/c...

... ain't working. So... We'll go to Nome!

How?

We have wings...

It's too cold to fly!

Well, put on some clothes. I'm comfy in my birthday suit.

Hmm... it's getting kinda old if you ask me...

No it isn't. I'm proud of each and every wrinkle. Took me centuries to get them.

The days were hot and sweaty. At least 666°... well maybe only 66°... but hot none-the-less. The black flies were hungry; the black bears were taking naps in the cold waters.

...

Is that a polar bear?

No white bears in Nome and they wouldn't wear red parkas if they did. I want some ice cream. Off to the corner store.

Don't forget your MARA hat with ear flaps.

Y'think?

Yep, occasionally I do. Bring me back a popsicle, would-ya.

...

Found a lollipop down at the store. Meet Sergei.

I said, a popsicle... Oh, never mind. He'll do.

The nights were sweaty too.

...

Don't worry. I sealed the wound and cleaned up the blood you spilled.

The puncture marks still show.

Why worry. Sergei seems happy.

я очень рад.

See! Sergei is cool.

Last night you said he was hot.

Yep. Hot and cold. Melt-in-your-mouth.

And in your hands.

That too.

Make Alaska Russian Again was taking on a whole new meaning.

© Copyright 2024 Kåre Enga (26.august.2024)

285 words for August 2024 "The Bard's Hall Contest"