what is it like iced lemonade in a glass cup the sun beat down tiny pink umbrella cast no shadow no solace chemicals, chlorine scorched our lungs we splashed the concrete, our feet so hot
if we had taken precaution, time, a second checked degrees, the burns our feelings, our bodies our skin, hot tar the signs screamed, ignored
we should not walk on hot coals, too late, the burns paint red our soles hurt, sting, cry, lather aloe vera until the pain numbs-
then step, we have no choice even if it hurts, it’s necessary the burns form blisters, bruises thick calluses offer protection to trod through the briar patch
Kaleb Tutt is a writer of the weird and strange. As a narrative designer, he also loves writing dialogue and quests for video games. Get in touch with him on Twitter @KalebT96.