Carmon in the Dragonfly Fields

I found myself walking my bicycle in the hot summer sun - heading on down the stone footpath that led me to the Dragonfly Fields. The pain in my groin had subsided shortly after I had parked the bike in the shade of a giant maple.
From my satchel I produced my canteen and drank deep - cool sugar water ran down my unshaven chin and khaki slacks. AAAhhhhh such sweet drink!
I marched out into the fields and took my shirt off - then laid out in the tall grass. Using my bag as a pillow I opened my novel, “Raspberries for Papa”
Laying there on my back I could see so many dragonflies cruising around against that blue sky. Someone told me they only live for one day. Imagine that – all that build up for one day in the hot sun.
I was getting hungry so I opened up the tin foil wrapped shrimps and bean burrito that Jennifer had packed for my lunch. I sunk my greedy little teeth in, and man that fucking burrito was piping hot. It popped and oozed little re-fried bean and cheese bits onto my bare chest - I cringed with delight at the pain. When I looked down I could see one of those tiny farm raised shrimps steaming and glistening on my pink hairy nipple. I felt both euphoria and shame. It was truly a deep sting – not only to my pride, but also to my inflated male chauvinistic ego.