Most days it just felt oppressive...the weight of an afternoon waiting to finally tip over and collapse in a spew of rain and thunder.
It was mid-summer, the perfectly balanced part of the season where the halfway point felt like the rest might last twice as long.
Each day felt the same...the exact and mirrored day as the one before...and most likely the same as tomorrow.
She was gone and her absence felt like a hole in his day. There was no sweet relief of a brewing and darkening storm bringing some reckoning to an afternoon of high heat and humidity. There was no stir of breeze. It was still...a frozen time of oppressing warmth that clung to him like a shrunken sweater. It moved with him, stayed with him.
She had done neither.
She had taken her rough-river colored eyes and slid sideways away.
She had disassembled her presence in her own quiet way...not loudly or disturbing but like a blink.
The sun doesn't seem to move, but he's sure it does. Slight subtle movement across a sky.
She had emerged in his sky like one of the early stars, while the light is waning but brilliantly fighting for his attention, his gaze. Only to disappear in the morning when the dawn blotted out the tiny light. Extinguished came to his mind.
It was hot again today...it was the same as yesterday.
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