Sweating and snoring

Harry lay next to Lady Smock not snoring, the sheet pulled up to his chin, his mouth a crevasse. Inside, hot air collected, rolled under his upper palate, bounced between his teeth, gathering momentum. Any second it would squeeze out of that crack and stutter into a tatterdemalion snore. Waiting for it to happen was almost as bad as trying to sleep under the last embers of this blazing day.

She felt like a lemon meringue pie, oozing sticky beads that clung to her nighty. The perspiring night air plastered her with misery and when she rolled over she heard herself squish against the bottom sheet. Peeling off her nightgown she flopped naked in the hot, damp imprint of her body, waiting, sweating. Harry snuffled. He whistled through his nose hairs. He twitched. She waited.

Finally, the growing puddle that collected between her breasts threatened to swamp her and she heaved out of bed to the shower. Gradually she turned down the flow of warm water and stood under a downpour of penetrating cold. Goose-pimples stippled her body and she began to shake. Relieved at last, she stepped out of the shower and went back to bed, cold, dripping wet, and covered in gooseflesh.

She fell asleep shivering listening to Harry snore at last. Thunder and release.


13 thoughts on “Sweating and snoring

  1. WOW! So glad Bruce nominated me along with you. It made me aware of you! Truly brilliant. You got yourself a new follower. 🙂


  2. I’m really desperate for a sliver of lemon meringue pie. Sweating or not. I remember as a kid trying to lick those little dots of sugar sweat, saving the meringue for last. Glad you liked the imagery and that it successfully evoked a hot, snoring night.


  3. I think I’ll call you the Imagery Queen – first I thought, hmmm, how does one feel like lemon meringue pie? but then you nailed it. Reminded me of trying to sleep on hot, summer nights as a kid while my father ‘sawed wood’ in the room next door.


    • An ice pack of some kind would be helpful. Good idea, Liz. I’ll pass that tip on to madame.


    • I got hungry writing that and now have a persistent craving for lemon meringue pie. This was a response to a writing prompt to write about trying to sleep in a heatwave without using the words heat or humid. I’m not sure I quite got there as Liz assumed I was writing about a hot flash. Still, the idea of heat came through so it was a partial success.


      • The success is more than partial. The devil is in the details. It’s nice spring weather here, now, but you had me remembering and hoping we escape that kind of heat wave for most of this coming summer!


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