It shouldn’t be so hot when you wake. Mornings are for calming cool, not sticky heat.
Nothing about this morning feels right. There’s no reason, just feeling. Like at some moment, bad news will drop. For me or for another, I can’t be sure.
My head throbs between wild thoughts and slight dehydration. With a shaky hand I tip the glass of water to my lips. I wipe my brow and tell myself to get it together.
But the feeling lingers.
Something is going to happen.