They sat on the verandah in the baking sun, hats pulled down over their eyes.
‘Sure is hot,’ Jim said.
‘I’m trying to ignore it,’ Mike said. ‘Pretend it’s not hot.’
‘But sure is hot.’
‘Don’t keep saying that.’
‘What? Sure is hot?’
‘Yes. Be quiet.’
‘But sure is hot. What else is there to say?’
‘Nothing.’
‘But sure is hot.’
‘I’m warning you. My patience is wearing thin.’
‘See – that’s cos it sure is hot.’
‘Quiet.’
‘Sure is – ’
Just then, Mike drew a gun and shot Jim dead. As the blood trickled past his feet, he felt cooler already.
‘Sure is hot,’ Jim said.
‘I’m trying to ignore it,’ Mike said. ‘Pretend it’s not hot.’
‘But sure is hot.’
‘Don’t keep saying that.’
‘What? Sure is hot?’
‘Yes. Be quiet.’
‘But sure is hot. What else is there to say?’
‘Nothing.’
‘But sure is hot.’
‘I’m warning you. My patience is wearing thin.’
‘See – that’s cos it sure is hot.’
‘Quiet.’
‘Sure is – ’
Just then, Mike drew a gun and shot Jim dead. As the blood trickled past his feet, he felt cooler already.
