Sunshine. On, a Rainy Day.

It, was hot. The sun kissed, everywhere. Continuasly ! There was no getting away from, it. The earth was parched. Beyond belief. There was this feeling of the world coming to an end. Especially, by the pool. He liked it there. Or, thereabouts. For obvious reason. He had worked hard, to earn his " spot " ! And, did not want to lose it. As the " ladies " were watching. Scantily-clad they ran the show. More often, than not, around the cocktail bar. Here, drink flowed as never before. Probably due to the feelings of regret present. At lives being wasted on trivial concerns, when so much more should have been done. Sexually, I mean.
What else was there to worry about now ? Considering the lack of prevailing wind, in any direction. The tide had certainly turned. But, with reference to what was the lowest common denominator. Best known, by all. Why would anything else be the case ? Or, the lack of forethought, as related to amount of " sun-cream " brought to fend off extreme contact, with the on-going climatic conditions.
In the " House Of The Rising Sun " deemed a " hotel " there was every type of worship to the " new god " ! And, nothing or no one else. The " disciples " led the way. Feasting on over-cooked " meat " to teach a lesson. None would forget, or had to.
In the name of " shared " commiseration over past events there had to be an " air " of harmonious reflection. On, what mattered. To, all. There was a " Knowing " which pervaded every " nook and cranny " beyond standard practice. Why would there be anything different ? Really. In the " heat " was a perception of what had been wasted most, over the years. Time.
It, now was. " Right " to make amends, in the only way everyone could understand. Natural selections were made, to bring in a wave of pure unadulterated mischief, as well as misapprehension, about  " current factors " ! And, what was meant by " reflection, " apart from its results. The " cocktail " for disaster was set to overload. That, was all there was to , it. And, very little else besides.
He had to play his part, in proceedings. Due, to his passing years. His age tolled against him. But, what else was there to do. The mood had been set. The surrounding environmental " factors " said so. He, comprihended the enormity of the situation. He had to adapt. With, or without a drink.
When the " shit, hits the fan "...it, surely does. Being, a WRITER, certainly did not help. In, any way, shape, or form.
But, he endured. Until, the end. He just, had to " grin, and bear it " ! As if, that mattered. Or, any thing else.

" Love, Actually. "  1.2.C !