by Jon Greene

Created on: July 07, 2009   Last Updated: July 08, 2009

The heat is unprecedented, even for this time of the year. I knew a storm must come soon, the air feels hot, oven baked- gas mark 6 for the last two weeks. For me one storm had already passed. A painful breakup after losing my job, the rain and the thunder that so disrupts life washing away the foundations of everything you've started to create. Oh well, that was the spring storm and here and now I've been commuting to a new job in the city, I still have my house. The downside however, is the commute. In this heat the underground is like a mobile sauna, everyone is packed in sweating, sticky. The stale, age old air is suffocating, endlessly circulating the same dreary corridors. I can't stand it, the stench of thousands of people sweltering along on their busy days, only preoccupied with their own comings and goings, their own discomfort in this heat. They are inconsiderate and I feel deep seated hate for them, perhaps this is the "lurking misanthropy" that lost me my girlfriend. The bitch. Anger still rises when I think of her and the years of manipulation and resentment we gave each other. Yet still pangs of loneliness creep up on me, laying in ambush to make me feel guilty and miss her.

I have a short walk from the tube station to the train home and the heat is more stifling than her. Although it's nearly eight, the sun still punishes the late commuters on their homeward journey. Yet the horizon promises the storm, the pent up fury will soon be released with devastating and spectacular results. I hope to be out in it, if it holds off for an hour or more it will welcome me home. I catch the stall holder before he shuts up shop, thankfully he can just about understand that I want a cold bottle of water. A sudden surge of contempt for the foreign man washes over me, maybe for the over-priced water, or maybe because I can't stand people. Maybe both. Walking through the station I get held up by slow walkers and the lighted ember of fury begins to hiss and spark to life. I contemplate the consequences of cleaving this crowd up. Though satisfying, I suspect it would be more trouble than it's worth. Oh well. Oh well, oh well. The exposed platform is buzzing with the heat and a far distant rumble could be that of thunder, or an approaching train. Drinking my water I notice a distinctly average looking girl sneaking glances at me. I am at once both embarrassed by the sweat patches creeping from under my arms, befouling the blue cotton shirt, and also highly irritated

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