Five

When I was five, there was a tapestry of heat. It was all around, all the time, an oppressing, mind-dulling thing that depleted the senses.

There was an air-conditioner in the bedroom. It was extremely noisy, in the old style, with gurgles and temperament changes, but it became the rhythm of my life. The Bedroom was always the refuge. No bees, ants, grasshoppers, geckos -- no, they didn't like the air conditioner.

After a while, its soothing hum became my tiny background soundtrack for life.

As I type an air conditioner hums and I realise it will always be the soundtrack of my life.

Hey, I remember five. Not all it's cut out to be.