Heat Waves and Hotties: A Summers Day Delight

Cumsters

Cumsters Pic(s)

The city lay inert beneath a blanket of oppressive, unmoving air. The sun had long since vanished, but the day’s ferocious heat refused to surrender its grip on the asphalt and brick. From my open window, I could hear the low, constant hum of a thousand air conditioners straining against the night. Neon signs from the all-night diner across the street shimmered in visible waves of rising warmth. Inside, the oscillating fan on the floor merely pushed the thick air from one side of the room to the other. A single glass of iced tea, beaded with condensation, offered a fleeting, cool illusion against my palm. Distant laughter from a rooftop party floated down, the sounds seeming sluggish and slow. The sheer curtains hung perfectly still, not a whisper of a breeze to give them life. Every surface, from the wooden floorboards to the leather sofa, radiated a stored, stubborn warmth. It was a night for stillness, for waiting, for hoping the dawn might finally bring relief.