It was a blazing, suffocating summer day as I made my way to the hospital. I met dozens of people going in the opposite direction on their way to the beach. There were families with children carrying inflatable animals, beach balls, diving flippers; parents were loaded with picnic cases, blankets, towels and sunshades; men dressed in shorts and sandals only, their arms and shoulders covered in tattoos and their pot-bellies swollen with good food and beer. Their wives swagged in provocative bathing suits, showing off their well-trained bodies and newly implanted breasts.
I hate summer. My entire life, I have suffered from a medical conditional called Hyperhidrosis, excessive perspiration. It has affected my way of life and my behaviour. While others were enjoying their time with girls and at the parties, I stayed at home cursing my bad luck. I knew I had no chance of meeting a girl. Women are demanding creatures. They search for the mighty and healthy men who can take care of them and protect them and their children. Personally, I surely did not belong to this category. My body was like a car whose radiator had been damaged and needed to cool down every kilometre. A small increase in the temperature brought me cells to the point of boiling almost; the final effect, litres of perspiration.
Student or Learner