Before the Heat

The calm of the morning breeze before the heat sets in is always so comforting, like a blanket of tranquility over my small town.  People scoop up their children and their lunchboxes, drink their coffee and ready their weeks.  Firework garbage litters the streets and the yards of East Helena, an acceptable trash once a year. Work that was so hastily abandoned Thursday afternoon anxiously awaits a helping hand to finish up the job.  The Ghosts of Kessler are climbing back into their walls and ramparts, the spiders back to their corners and underthings.

I tuck my weekend back to sleep, and get ready before the heat as well.