Trying to work despite the mosquitoes and there is the smell of insect repellent. That acid tang, the grit of sand in my teeth, kisses with a grain of it passed from lip to lip and the taste of Rid on my breast perhaps. Summer holiday. A pause in the school year, a break before university. A gap. Heat fermenting desire, sweat making a slow trail down my back.
It is impossible to concentrate. I remove myself from the project yet again. A quick consummation by myself with the summer-holiday images simmering over the smell of insect repellent. A mosquito buzzes against my ear.
Good and sweet. I am wearing away the Sharp edges of memory till it is warm and gentle as a river stone. I long for the ocean.
I trudge back to the chair and I wave away the sound of a mosquito, but there is still the acid chemical smell and I refuse to leave the chair yet again. I am making the upholstery damp with self-denial, but I want to work, must work, must force myself to concentrate or I will be raw and sore and will have nothing to show for it at the end of a long, hot summer-holiday kind of day.