the asphalt steamed fragrantly. humidity rose to the muggy green atmosphere and with it the feeling of imminence and impenitence.the stifling thickness of the air was profoundly pungent and uncomfortably warm. In this may purgatory sat a feeling of unpleasant, melancholic waiting for the known yet untold that lingered. and despite the apprehension, a foreboding sense of mesmerism hung unpleasantly. the glooming clouds bloomed, hotly blossoming in to a storm. with a cracked whip of thunder, lightning tightly zigged to the dank terrain, booming. And with that, the sky fell.