Humidity

The chalky, flat rocks pile up horizontally and reach for the mint colored facade inviting trouble. Then, through the fog a translucent bag blurs glass blown, orange leaves that bend like wet cardboard under the weight of my average frame. My knees electrically pop in the humidity as I reach out for the damp bag. A porcelain but mud covered thigh appears as more of the body is revealed. A fat swallow, perched on an electric wire looks over the clearing. I instantly choke on the odor of wet leaves and abandoned flesh. I replace the bag and carry on.