It's here.

Storm is on its way.

The heat here has a weight to it. Evenings it settles onto your chest, insistently. "I will be here all night." It says. "This is how you must learn to sleep." Mornings I wake up tangled in damp sheets. Wet seaweed wrapped up 'round my legs.

Calm Before the Storm

It's coming...

Anticipation

Strange...I expected the fear to have descended by now. At the very least that ball of nerves should be well-settled in my gut. All clenched up like a fist and providing that gnawing reminder that, in fact, I don't have the foggiest idea of what I'm doing. Instead, I feel as though I'm running full-tilt towards the edge of a cliff, armed with the knowledge that a well-timed flick of the ankles will send me soaring towards the heavens.