American author and environmentalist Edward Abbey sits in a folding chair as he reads, near his desert home, Tuscon, Arizona, April 9, 1984. (Photo by Ed Lallo/Getty Images)Happy birthday to the following letters, all written on the third day of an August gone by. Oh, oh, oh, the heat.
Oh, oh, oh, the heat. It comes round corners at you like an animal with windmill arms. As I enter my bedroom, it stuns, thuds, throttles, spins me round by my soaking hair, lays me flat as a mat and bat-blind on my boiled and steaming bed.
As I enter my bedroom, it stuns, thuds, throttles, spins me round by my soaking hair, lays me flat as a mat and bat-blind on my boiled and steaming bed. We keep oozing from the ice-cream counters to the chemist's. Cold beer is bottled God.