Friday, May 20, 2016

100 Words a Day 855

The whirring fan whined, as though it was as uncomfortable in the heat as we were. The single working fan labored to exchange the heat in the lecture hall with the hot air from outside, with minimal success. It seemed as though it would die at any moment. I drew my arm across my forehead and wiped the sheen of sweat I collected on my pant leg. Lifting my water bottle to my mouth, I discovered it was empty. I undulated my face muscles, running my tongue around my mouth, and collected enough saliva to swallow and moisten my throat.

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