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Weekly Contest #314
It was the hottest day of the year.Even the wind had given up. Cicadas droned from somewhere deep in the trees, rising and falling like the breath of something ancient and exhausted. Everything shimmered. The asphalt outside looked liquid. My skin stuck to the wood-paneled walls of my grandmother’s living room. And the air, somehow, smelled like metal.I was lying on the hardwood floor with my cheek pressed to the boards, hoping the cool would seep into my bones. It didn’t. Nothing helped. Not the lukewarm iced tea, not the ancient ceiling fa...
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