Undeniable...

A summer thunderstorm-you know, the kind precipitated from a certain electricity that has whispered of you since dawn? The kind that forewarned hopeful beach goers with a single strong gust of wind rattling through the trees at noon; the laughable bellowing protest of a defeated old man huffing against the greedy swelling humidity. That heavy, heavy humidity which grows ever more unruly until the collective will of all the poor pink-and-white striped tourists is overcome and every “H” to be found-whether hydrogen or happy hope- explodes simultaneously, drowning all surrounding O2 in a downpour which leaves the pockmarked sand a sad strand of half-dug holes, tipped beach chairs, and abandoned parasols.

...Yeah, that’s what you are.