Funny Attire

A couple of years ago my brother gave me a pair of surfer shorts. Jammies or jammers, they had a name, but I don't remember exactly. Weird long shorts like basketball players wear, or surfers. Black with sun-burst reds and oranges on the legs and butt. Not exactly something I'd wear. However, in this heat, with a threadbare tee-shirt off which I'd cut the sleeves and neck-band, I'm almost comfortable. D, Anthony and I at the pub, having a couple of beers, chips with extra salsa we'd weedled from the kitchen, amusing the staff, we help out where we can. I drift off into the ether, the two of them are talking art, the next installation, I'm thinking how hot my house will be, when I finally get there. It's worse than I thought, but my older daughter calls. There's a sub-text, but I'm not sure what it is. What's said and what's not said. Either the power or my phone's out. A bad dream. Oneiric divination. What the tea leaves seemed to be saying.