Weather - Jennifer Balko

The Mediterranean summer sun sizzles. The beach offers a temporary retreat, but only in the cool salty sea. The sand burns. Nights are better. The evening breeze tickles our toes, uncovered, dangling over the edge of the bed. But, not tonight. Under the waning full moon, the air drapes a silent cape. A storm should be coming to break this heat and humidity. It never comes. Only shrill voices from the plaza below pierce the sticky night. Women laugh, gossip. Children shriek when the soccer ball curves between the bench and tree marking the goal. Men, with cigars, chatter in raspy voices. Please go home. You’re too loud. It’s late. Smack. One less mosquito buzzing around my ankles.