From early morning in October the heat pulls life into clustering groups straining into the diminishing shadows and beyond the shadows the horizons dance in imaginary lakes, teasing heat-tormented creatures.
It is called suicide month for the air is still, breath-gasping still. It is a time of suffering, and there are victims, with only the wilderness undertakers reveling in the time.
As the forerunners of a revolution, vagrants dare the season, but quickly disintegrate in the oppressive regime - but with each day the promise of a change increases as the seasons sense a shift in the balance of order ....
And then a morning may dawn in cloud, and the expectations reach fever pitch, but soon the heat pushes the cloud aside, and the earth gasps in disappointment - and screaming frustration takes over....
The promise of fulfillment will pass and instead spill out on the distant horizon. A feeling of intense frustration will fill the air.
Another day in October: .... and the day is greyed in the fires of the season, smoke hangs in the air, daubing the moments in a stained haze ....
Still, the promise of rain lingers in the air.
By Leigh Kemp