The trees will have their victory
artist interpretation
I surrender to your mighty pollen, trees of Chestertown. You win. I cannot think today. I cannot breathe. I have a headache that starts directly behind my eyes, thunders across my entire skull and rampages down into the middle of my back via a brittle spine. My eyes water and burn. And I give up.
Name your terms and you can have my surrender. I shall never again attempt to breathe your rightfully owned oxygen. I will avoid standing in the shaded areas near you because I clearly deserve to be scorched by the Maryland sun.
And if I go berserk and come up with Mouse Trap-like ways to kill myself, don’t be surprised. I mean, you have seen The Happening, right? (I know, Zooey Deschanel again.)
Just don’t say I didn’t warn you when the trees are your new overlords.