The Heat Wave (03/30/11)

The purpose of this writing exercise was to write something inspired by a passion of yours, a scene that plays on an element of your life.

Even just laying on her bed she was sweating, the heat somehow radiating off the cotton sheets. She had tried everything; closing the windows, the blinds, turning on fans, taking off clothes but short of curling up in a cold shower she wasn’t able to sleep. She could feel the sweat forming under her hair as it slid towards the pillow. Her whole body was damp, the beads of sweat twitching and settling with each inhale and exhale. It felt like she was boiling, every muscle in her back and legs warm and soft.

The phone rang and with a deep exhale, she lifted herself, folding at the waist and swinging her legs off the side of the bed in one motion. The movement of the air was momentarily satisfying but her head began to swim. Letting her head and chest fall heavy onto her thighs, her arms jumped forwards to grab the screeching phone off her desk.

It was her mother checking to make sure that the heat wave hadn’t cooked her alive in her tiny room. She spoke softly, her exhales cool against her bare legs. Saying goodbye, she released her arms and set the phone on the floor with a small click. She let herself hang there for a moment, draped over her legs, nose tucked between her knees. This new angle invited the sweat to roll in a different direction, tickling her scalp and jaw as it pushed towards her nose and onto her legs. With a final push, she threw herself back into bed, her head hitting the pillow and her muscles melting into the sheets.