Hot Day

Stupidly short, barely an introduction. The image popped into my head one day so I wrote it down when I got home.

The sun blazed high in a vibrant blue sky. Sunlight streamed through fine curtains over a sliding door, the opening doing little to rid the room of the stifling heat. It was one of those days where no one ever got anything done, and time itself seemed to stop moving. Indeed, nothing much was moving at all in the room, save the faintly rippling curtains and the trail of incense that crept timidly upwards, and a few of the pottery shards that littered the floor, still spinning and rocking, and the trembling, kneeling figure of the tenant with a blade pressed against her throat.