Global Warming, Please Hurry Up
Johnny strode out of his front door onto the harsh morning street and walked the short, dramatic distance to the convenience store. He spotted Albert, his elderly neighbor, clad in a beige woolen hat and winter jacket, leaning on a stick and puffing on a flimsy roll-up.
“How’s your health, Albert?” Johnny asked.
“Can’t complain,” Albert said with a resigned sigh. “How about you, son?”
“Surviving,” Johnny replied, smiling as always.
“Off to the shop, are ya?” Albert inquired.
“Yeah, just picking up a few things.”
Inside the store, Johnny browsed the shelves of newspapers, pondering which one to buy. £2.50 for The Independent? he muttered to himself. Might as well read it online. He grabbed a bottle of washing-up liquid before heading to the counter, where Albert was patiently waiting.
After paying, Johnny stepped outside, rejoining Albert as they walked back to their estate. A sudden blast of wind and rain distorted their cold-looking faces.
“Global warming, please hurry up,” Albert blurted.
Johnny chuckled. “I’m not looking forward to winter.”
“It’s the snow and the ice I can’t take,” Albert agreed.
“They’ve been warning us about global warming for years, yet all we get are unpredictable summers, awful floods, and freezing winters,” Johnny remarked.
“It’s like global warming in reverse,” Albert joked.
They exchanged a grin before Albert continued, “And those poor sods who bought lovely retirement homes on the coast! We’re still waiting for that Mediterranean weather they promised. Next week, they say a Siberian wind is blowing in.”
Johnny shook his head. “My goodness.”
Albert reminisced, “The only sun I’m guaranteed now is my two weeks’ holiday abroad. Not so long ago, I’d sit in my backyard, getting a lovely tan before I went away. I’d come back in my shorts and T-shirt. Now? I pack my winter clothes for the return.”
Johnny chuckled again as they strolled ahead.
“It’s not good, Albert,” Johnny said, shrugging. “But surely better days are ahead.”
“I bloody hope so! Global warming, please hurry up,” Albert exclaimed.
They shook hands warmly.
“We don’t get it that bad here in the UK,” Albert mused.
“You take care of yourself, Albert,” Johnny said.
“And you too, son,” Albert replied.
Another poem by Skendong: Deep Sea Mining: The New Gold Rush Your Grandkids Will Love
Further Reading: Could the UK actually get colder with global warming?