[untitled]

 The sun was blasting down heat waves you thought were next to impossible. O how you hated that. Your neck would be red for sure. Red like the blood that stained your yellow shirt, clinging to your hot, sweaty body. It hurt to move. With every step to no where, it hurt like bees stinging you over and over again. You looked down to make sure nothing was impairing your moment, just in case. You never knew if something was there or, hence the reason to constantly check. Or was it just a game. A way to pass the time? To keep your mind of the fact that you have done nothing but walk for as far back as you can bear to think. Nothing was on you. It was your mind playing tricks with you. As far as you can tell, you have not seen bees since the summer. Since exit 144. That was at least a month ago. So why then, was it so bloody hot. 

        It was coming, you could hear from miles away, could taste the metal smell in your mouth. It was dripping from your salvia. A gush of wind teased you as it blew your hot shirt away from your body, leaving as quick as it came, giving you a chance of hope if just for a second. It closer and the wind haunts you as you beg for it to come back , if only for a second.