Monday, July 25, 2016

100 Words a Day 893

Neither the traffic nor the breeze were moving. He had forgotten to get the A/C recharged and his fan had broken anyway. The sun hung static in the summer sky. The only movement was the heat radiating off the blacktop and the sweat running down his face, dripping from his chin to land unnoticed in his lap. He shifted in his seat, his sweat-soaked shirt rubbing uncomfortably against his back, and swallowed the globules of sweat that had run across his lips and into his mouth. What little water was left in his water bottle had fogged the clear plastic.

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