Today was the day.
The day when people talk to total strangers about the humidity just for the sake of empathy.
Walking into Walgreens, a black man man mutters “shit” and a white man concurs, “nasty out here.”
The steamy cottons and rayon stick to spongy skin and upper lips are porous.
The windows are covered in condensation; Summer is upon us and it is heavy. We all knew it was coming but, until that first gross, disgustingly wet, hot day nobody was convinced. Like broken horses, nobody doubts it now,
Cars and houses carry on with no climate control and there are so many other things to spend money on.
The rain threatened but never showed up today. Couldn’t it just have soaked everything instead of lingering around?
The clouds were huge purple sponges.
The days are hot and the killers are out there.
And now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring.