Rain hangs in ribbons, never touching the ground. Dust swirls to meet the wet strands. Thunder cracks.

August 8th, 2013, 3pm

It was 31°C with few clouds. The wind blew strong.

Away beyond the cloud floor, the mountains wriggle their shoulders in warm sunlight. Winds run across the valley floor, tossing handfuls of dirt and sand into the air with vicious glee. The few, brave trees lean away from the wind, waiting patiently for sun and calm to return.

David Wade, Jane and Beauregard said thanks.

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Jess Hutton

I write. I don't like shoes. I do like cheese.

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