Do You Know What’s Going on Outside?

My bike was making that peculiar noise again as I navigated the incline towards the office, face reddening. Given this hill was a staple of my commute, I had optimistically assumed it would eventually get a little easier. So far, that day was yet to arrive. Another rattle. Definitely more concerning that time. Actually, it was starting to sound distinctly more like a clank. I glimpsed my watch. Despite the flush in my cheeks I was making good time, and could probably take a quick look when I arrived at work. Except - scratch that - emails about a vaguely serious meeting this morning were conjured from the back of my mind where I’d shoved them last night. The bike admin was hastily rescheduled to tomorrow’s mental to-do list. Finally, my personal mountain levelled out and I picked up some pace, so used to this route I let my mind muse over the rest of my weekend plans. A whole, unencumbered Saturday stretched out in front of me, a rarity these days. If this weather keeps up, I could take the bike stand into the garden, take the time to investigate the noises properly. In fact, Henry and I bought some new parts when we last hung out. Having not had the opportunity to switch them out, they were sitting in their box, patiently waiting for me to get back to them. One more glance at my watch confirmed there was still enough time to stop off for a coffee. After all, it would be bordering on sacrilegious to forgo this part of the weekly ritual; a congratulatory caffeine-boost at Julia’s to celebrate getting through yet another week.

Swinging into the lot and dismounting, my thoughts lingered a moment more on that last meeting with Henry. I should text him, see if he fancied helping out on the bike with me tomorrow. I’m sure he would be at a bit of a loose end since he broke up with his girlfriend, and I was also sure he knew I’d been avoiding him since. Maybe not avoiding him so much as…dodging his texts while I figured out what I wanted to say? Or more accurately, how to say it. Taking my helmet off, I shook out my hair and thoughts of awkward text messages with it. My jolt back into reality was helped along by the enthusiastic greeting of a big, gangly dog, his tongue lolloping to the side as he panted in the surprisingly balmy morning sunshine. Cute.

I noticed then how busy it was. Crowds of people milled around the paved street in front of Julia’s, encouraged out of their hibernations by the unanticipated temperatures. The little wooden tables dotted around in front of the bay windows had made a miraculous revival, having stood empty and forgotten about in the recent unrelenting grey drizzle. Now, every seat was taken, cheerful faces lifted to the sky as though worried the sun would disappear behind a cloud at any moment, and winter would officially be here. Tilting my own head back, I was surprised to meet a perfectly blue sea of sky stretching out above me. Not a cloud in sight. Maybe it would last over the weekend, then. Maybe Henry would like to get a coffee on the green tomorrow, or even a beer or two, depending on what stage of the break-up he was in. Eyes still on the cloudless sky, a flock of birds abandoned perches in the trees beside me, a perfect synchronicity of flapping wings. They flew over my head, not as one but, darting in all directions, cawing at each other. I looked around for the culprit, a cat or a fox that must have scared them away, but found nothing.

Realising I might now run the risk of being late, I hurried inside, internally groaning as I joined the end of the queue. Preparing to kill some time, I pulled my phone out. (3) missed calls. One from Ben. Two from mum. I put my phone away again, kicking down the guilty feeling bubbling up from my stomach. I would phone them back this evening. Or over the weekend, at least. Without the reliable distraction of my phone, I turned to people watching. A young mother fussed over a baby in a pram at my side. The baby, red cheeked and big brown eyes, gurgled away happily, clapping little hands together. The mother furrowed her brows over equally big brown eyes,

“Do you think she needs more suncream” she anxiously asked the man with her, starting to sort through her bag, “I don’t know if I bought any…I wasn’t expecting…”

”Honey,” the man cut her off gently, placing a hand on her shoulder, “she’s fine. It’s November. How much UV could there possibly be?” He was right of course, although I had become acutely aware of a bead of perspiration sliding out from under my hair. Pawing at my neck, I turned away from the family, looking instead at an older woman across from me. She looked both pale and yet like she was overheating at the same time, fanning herself with a magazine.

“Can you believe this,” she said, catching my eye and gesturing into thin air around her, “Indian Summer, I think it’s called. Not for me, personally.” I muttered something indistinct and thought about getting my phone out again.

“Oh, hey! The usual?” Asked the barista when I reached the front of the line, already pulling out a large cup.

”Yes please,” I wiped at my forehead, definitely sweating now, “Iced though, if you do it”. She smiled, flashing the gap between her two front teeth.

“Lovely day, isn’t it? I hope you’ve got something fun planned, make the most of it and all that!”

”I wish. Just work.” With apparently excellent memory, she was already scrawling my name onto the cup in black ink. I realised then that I had been coming in here every Friday for months, and I had never asked her name. Clumsily, I carried on, “what about you? Uh, I mean, after you’re finished here, um…?” My face felt scarlet now, although that could have been solely down to the seemingly sweltering air now filtering in through the open windows, and not my embarrassment.

“Kim,” her smile grew even wider, “A few friends are heading down to the beach, an impromptu trip. Can you believe that, in November?” She half laughed, earrings bobbing as she shook her head. I smiled back, ignoring the heat on my face.

“I know, I’m sure it wasn’t forecasted. Have fun at the beach,” I said, and then, in an obvious attempt to keep the conversation going, “Do you know what’s going on outside? A lot of people around…”

“Ah you know, good weather brings great business,” she paused, looking past me and into the street behind, frowning slightly, “Or it could be another protest or something, but I don’t know what everyone is looking at. Anyways, coffee will be ready in a minute. Your hair looks nice, by the way.” I laughed a little at this, conscious of a few loose strands starting to stick to my face.

“Thanks. See you next week” I said, moving to the side. I was starting to regret coming into the cafe today, having not expected to see so many people in the small space it provided, and wondering when air conditioning units were going to become the norm. As people chatted and laughed around me, the hot air was starting to feel suffocating. Leaning my back against the wall, I saw what Kim had meant. The young families and older couples who had been relaxing in the morning sun were now stood, back to the window, watching something off in the distance. The little wooden tables stood empty once more, except for one. The big dog, barking wildly, was now tied up to one of the legs, despite his best efforts to pull free from the leash. Whoever his owners were amongst the crowd hadn’t seemed to notice yet, preoccupied with the unseen distraction. Huh. Whatever it was must be putting on a good show. I was grateful when my name was called out and, coffee in hand, I made a beeline for the exit.

Much to my disappointment, outside was even worse, like there was less air out here. Having initially borne at least some resemblance to a pleasant, summer's day, it now felt uncomfortably hot, air close and stagnant. It was bright too. Bringing the cool plastic of my iced coffee up to my cheek, I noticed an eleven-digit number scrawled across the side, finished off with a smiley face, and started. I had to get out of here, into the cool office. I headed towards my bike, metal glistening in the heat as though it was molten. It almost looked like it was getting brighter, and brighter. As I moved, I realised the fabric of my T-shirt wasn’t moving with me. Instead, it was flat to my back and stomach, wet with sweat. This was definitely not normal. I felt sick, dizzy in the sudden heat. Someone screamed behind me, and I spun on my heel, having almost forgotten I wasn’t here alone. A girl was pointing up into the sky. Not half an hour before, it had been picture-perfect blue. Now, as though it was being engulfed by the sun, it was turning a brilliant white-yellow. I had only followed the girl's gaze for a moment and yet my eyes throbbed. Snapping my head away and clamping my eyelids shut did nothing to lessen the pounding of my eyes in my head, the dazzling light imprinted on the inside of my skull. Too scared to open my eyes again, I blindly felt towards the body of my bike, hand outstretched. I just need to get out of here. Get anywhere but here. The tip of my finger made contact with the steel frame for a blistering moment before I instinctively jerked my hand away again. Eyes still shut, I could hear the crashing footsteps of people running without direction, just anywhere away from the inescapable heat. Yells, shouts, screams filled the scorching air. A car alarm bleated in the distance, carcophanising with the blare of sirens racing past. Somewhere deep in my mind I realised it was somehow getting hotter. A thousand tiny pins seared into the bare skin of my arms. I crouched low to the ground, gingerly opening my eyes slightly, half expecting to find my own body on fire. All around me, trees were burning to the ground as people ran blindly, scattering themselves around immovable bodies and dancing flames. The sky was growing brighter still. All at once, a radiant ball shot from the depths of the sky with a deafening bang, white-hot ash raining down in its wake. Behind me, a tiny voice,

“Did anyone else see that?” I turned to look. Kim. On all fours, every inch of her skin was covered in flashes of angry burns. I reached out a trembling hand, mouth open as if to speak. And then everything went black.