There I was, sat on the porch, shirt sleeves rolled up, trying to cool down as I drank some of the homebrew that I had made two months ago. The summer heat wave had persisted into December. Weathermen used it as evidence about their claims of Global warming; others put it down to freak weather conditions. Whatever the cause, it was too hot to sit indoors – too blasted hot outside, too. Due to the unusual weather, my poppies had bloomed again. I don’t think I’ve ever known it happen before, mind, but they were a remarkable sight. A red wave of colour. Whenever I looked at them, they reminded me of the graves of those brave soldiers and friends buried in Flanders fields. Here, I cultivated them in my own little memorial garden. Even though it hadn’t brewed long enough, the beer tasted good. I took another swallow, and as I set the glass down, a large, black lorry trundled up and parked outside my house. It was so huge that it blocked out the sun and gave partial respite from the heat, which was a blessed relief.
What do You think about The Mutilation Machination?
