Heatwave

Feel the heat. It hangs low, drapes itself over the land, oozes into every crack and crevice. Hot, wet, clinging. Bad heat. The kind of heat that makes skin itch and clothes heavy with sweat. The kind of heat that makes you want to crawl under a rock, somewhere cool and deep. Heat that makes tempers run ragged, and makes people foolish. Bad heat. A distant rumble at first, like thunder beyond the hills telling the heavy sky that a cooling rain is not far. But growing louder, and bringing no release. Resolving from a murmur to the sound of voices- angry voices. They have come at last. Something flickers. Something old, something buried. Feel the heat. It sticks, it clings, it creeps into you. Bad heat. The kind of heat that makes a person go... crazy. Somewhere is heard a sound like s starter's gun. The tension shetters. The madness surges forth....