It was a hot summer. The humidity was suffocating; it made your hair curl, your nerves itch, and your every thought pressed up against you like a nervous lover. Sleep was fleeting. Woken several times by nothing in particular, always wondering why the sun took so long to rise. On nights like that men who have been friends for years leave parties dukes up, fighting for blood. Anything can happen.
Everything did.
In the days leading up the end, I could feel the hysteria, impatient and merciless, like a wasp trapped under my blanket. It was like a spell had been cast on us all and suddenly, we were no longer our own. I could feel gravity bending in the air. I knew not exhale too quickly. One wrong move and nothing is how it used to be.
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