Leo Madsen
21-07-2010, 06:21 PM
"Too 'ot"
It had become a mantra, a coping mechanism. A way of warding off the searing, unrelenting heat. Like a man whistling to himself as he walked home at night, to stave off his fears of what may be lurking in the darkness. A simple acknowledgment of the draining, overwhelming heat, as though acknowledging its power somehow made it lesser. Bearable somehow. It bore down on him like a cave in burying a miner. Not killing outright but slowly, ever so steadily killing.
His tongue clung to the roof of his mouth uncomfortably. The tepid water he'd taken to carrying with him on duty, rationed doing little to ease his discomfort, merely enough to ward off sunstroke and dehydration. To keep him functioning. Because that's all duty had come down to. Merely functioning enough to get through the day. Lack of uniforms, or only parts, drinking on duty. Sitting round, immersing themselves in a pool of water.
Drinking. On Duty no less. Well they'd regret drinking in this heat when they collapse, their brains having been turned to mush. However, that was the stupidity of individuals, there was a very real danger of multiple lives being lost in the heat. Thanks to the fires that had been springing up. Unlucky coincidences or the result of something more malicious?
http://img251.imageshack.us/img251/1268/flames2.jpg
It was something of a miracle no guardsmen had been killed extinguishing the blazes, especially as water was being rationed. Casualties had so far been restricted to a few unfortunate civilians. But how long could they possibly keep it up? They'd weathered drought before, famine, war, plague, terrorism, flooding.. but eventually, something would have to give. Would it be this heatwave which broke their backs?
http://img641.imageshack.us/img641/1649/flamesc.jpg
It was no use worrying. They would simply have to carry on. Doing what they could to get by.
"Too 'ot"
It had become a mantra, a coping mechanism. A way of warding off the searing, unrelenting heat. Like a man whistling to himself as he walked home at night, to stave off his fears of what may be lurking in the darkness. A simple acknowledgment of the draining, overwhelming heat, as though acknowledging its power somehow made it lesser. Bearable somehow. It bore down on him like a cave in burying a miner. Not killing outright but slowly, ever so steadily killing.
His tongue clung to the roof of his mouth uncomfortably. The tepid water he'd taken to carrying with him on duty, rationed doing little to ease his discomfort, merely enough to ward off sunstroke and dehydration. To keep him functioning. Because that's all duty had come down to. Merely functioning enough to get through the day. Lack of uniforms, or only parts, drinking on duty. Sitting round, immersing themselves in a pool of water.
Drinking. On Duty no less. Well they'd regret drinking in this heat when they collapse, their brains having been turned to mush. However, that was the stupidity of individuals, there was a very real danger of multiple lives being lost in the heat. Thanks to the fires that had been springing up. Unlucky coincidences or the result of something more malicious?
http://img251.imageshack.us/img251/1268/flames2.jpg
It was something of a miracle no guardsmen had been killed extinguishing the blazes, especially as water was being rationed. Casualties had so far been restricted to a few unfortunate civilians. But how long could they possibly keep it up? They'd weathered drought before, famine, war, plague, terrorism, flooding.. but eventually, something would have to give. Would it be this heatwave which broke their backs?
http://img641.imageshack.us/img641/1649/flamesc.jpg
It was no use worrying. They would simply have to carry on. Doing what they could to get by.
"Too 'ot"