The head of the pedestal fan panned left and right from the corner, pushing the hot air around the stuffy room. Jake Wilson would've left the windows open, but the searing wind outside would seep in, making the summer night even more unbearable. And with the air-conditioner broken, he had to compensate with a towel-cloth and a shallow basin filled with iced water.
Jake rose from bed for the tenth time during the night. He wiped his arms and face with the drenched cloth and plopped back down, leaving it splattered over his face like an overstreched pizza dough. Maybe this time--with the cooling cloth over his face--he would finnaly get some decent sleep.
But within minutes, the cloth had turned warm and the coolness from the wipe-down had evaporated. He started perspiring again and was itchy from the sweat trickling down the sides of his neck. The nights in January were never ususally this bad, but tonight just seemed hotter for some reason.
You know how if you cook a frozen pizza in the microwave but you accidentally set it for six minutes instead of three and then you slap it onto your face, cheese side down? And where the pepperoni was you'd have these round blisters on your face, like chicken pox only bigger? Ostrich pox? That's how hot it was.
Christ, it was hot. Although it was always rarely this hot. Sweat poured off Jake like he was lying in a pizza oven in the Outback. Where was the damn air conditioner repairman? 24-hour service my ass, Jake thought. He's probably sitting in his air-conditioned truck downing a cold one while I'm--
The doorbell rang. About time. He jogged through the living room to the front door and pulled it open.
But it wasn't the AC guy. It was the Dominos guy. "Careful with the box," he said. "It's very hot."
Opening: Afiq.....Continuation: Evil Editor