Heat


It is hot! The air above me suffocates, lacking breeze.
This July eve, the heat affects me most.
Tomorrow, I will end one affiliation and begin anew.
The future causes my brow to arch, the heat adding to my discomfort.

This house, my home is large and strong, but may not survive the coming storm.
All before me, I must be willing to cede as a consequence of this nights decisions.
I feel the heat began to crescendo into a fire storm.
I envision myself appearing at the very gates of Hell.

I finish my dress and put on my coat realizing, soon, this will be my home no longer.
I will be branded a traitor in my native country, a patriot in my new.

As I sit in the Congress, I am alone if not for Jefferson and my Congressional Secretary.
The document prepared by Jefferson beckons my signature. I am overcome with emotion
as I, John Hancock, President of the Congress, slowly, in large bold script,
sign The Declaration of Independence.

As I return to my home, I realize this heat will not go away for a long time.

I return to say goodbye.

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