Summer in the Plague

The air is thick. The light breeze is juicy with the sweat of summer. How quickly the clouds form and the thunder rumbles warn us. The birds cry. They are telling the rest of their flock to be aware that soon the damp earth will yield the crawling worms they like to feast on. It is a quick attack. It sweeps over us with menace and leaves us in peace. Soon the clouds linger and the thick air wraps us in its arms. We can hear few rumbles off in the distance as the danger retreats. We are left with the air cleansed. The tires of the few cars, that are in the streets these days, hiss through the wet pavement. The rain will cause the lawnmower engine sounds in the coming days, flowers in the fields to grow, and salad greens in the garden to prosper. Still, we must fear the sickness.

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Diversity

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Ring The Bell

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