Summer in Australia

The tar burns my nostrils, as I lick the salty droplet off my top lip. 

Mirages glisten on the horizon and the cars gauge rises into the red. 

Barnesey vibrates the speakers, heard above the constant buzz. 

Swatting at the blurring dot around my face.

The gravel crunches under my feet, staggering from the ute to pub. 

Holding the ice cold glass against my forehead, then swallowing the amber liquid.

I sooth my dry, scratchy throat.