A Summer shower hesitating with high heat and sweating you with humidity deciding on the colour of the day at last cuts loose shivering you with the thunder and letting you know all that matters is the light precisely when it is dimmed the storm had been building for a while the clouds assembling like warships on the horizon some silent speaking armada challenging the light and birds chatting to the wind challenging the breeze and the breeze itself whispering against the trees like a smoker trying to quit and like that miscellaneous smoker worrying a fidget spinner or poking gum out of a blister pack before and after sliding the card in and out of its sleeve the collateral damage of that virtuous act quitting even if one cigarette at a time before pressing reset and starting again is not knowing what to do with your hands so the Summer storm starts with the odd spit sweeps you like a stylist with the finest of mists and...