by Sarah Little


the air feels thick,
blanketlike over narrow shoulders.
it’s one hundred percent humidity
and twenty degrees.

a few streets over
there’s grey clouds on the horizon.
rain, when it happens,
will clear the air.

in the distance, i can hear
the faintest rumble.
thunder? i think, crane up
to look out the window.

the sky is still dry.

i twist my hair into a
sloppy bun – no hair tie,
have to make do with winding
a piece of hair around.

people laugh and shout in the distance
and grey clouds roll in.
they’re all drowned out
as the temperature dips.

inside, energy surges through
my laptop,
electricity running my veins and
keeping my heart beating.

inside, she reaches out to touch
my hand
and i pull back for fear
of electrocuting her.

Sarah Little | | @tuckedinacorner

Sarah Little has an ever-running mind, which makes writing the perfect occupation. When she isn’t trying to slow her mind, she blogs, amuses colleagues with writing adventures, and looks for shenanigans. Her work has appeared in Effervescent Magazine, and is forthcoming in Halo Literary Magazine and Twisted Sister Literary Magazine. She can be found blogging or on Twitter.

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