Fictional Summers

I suppress my desires and suffocate myself with a black tie. Sweating in the July heat, I swallow with angst as I walk into the wolf's den. An interview for a job that I don't want. Malice laden scowls paint the faces of the employees in the desolate parking lot. Earning a wage doing what we hate. I long for my carefree childhood. Never being concerned with the basic necessity of food or shelter. My only concerns were of dreams and endless warm nights. It's funny how those summers turn to blatant protrusions of adulthood. The light cool breezes have given way to the oppressive summer heat. Always looking back for something that has always been out of reach... Always looking back at those fictional summers...