Despite the good sun and blue skies, the atmosphere was anything but always amazing. In Some times was strange about those summer days, the days when the laughter died so quick and the air seemed too silent. The bright sunshine couldn't even win the increasing darkness within. It felt as if the season had broken its promise of joy.
The streets were as bustling as ever, yet people appeared duller, conversations shorter, and smiles contrived. Heatwaves brought bad news. Somewhere, a buddy lost his job, while someone else griehed a loved one. Politics simmered, tempers flared, and the globe spun a bit too quickly.
Even the night, which should have provided refuge from the heat, brought no relief. My sleep was disturbed. Dreams were vivid and weird. It was the kind of summer that left a mark, not on the flesh, but on the spirit.
Sometimes, the darkest days are not accompanied by rain. They appear when the sun is too intense.