Apocalypse of Jude

All around the air is filling with humidity, as a frenzy of friction gathers among the clouds, building them from deep within to a sweating fury, darkening them to smoke heavy grey. Driving along the Strand, Caul and Mae look on with uneasy awe at the dark protruding palls, pregnant with the promise of a thunderstorm. The sea is rising tempestuously in reaction to the pressure bearing down on it from above. A flash of lightening rivets the sky above the mountains, followed momentarily by the first peal of thunder. Then with a damp gust, on the windscreen, slow sluggish drops of heavy moisture burst, then more vivid lightening, and louder thunder, and finally the urgency of huge rain drops.

Mae opens her window briefly and fills her nostrils with the static electric air and the smell of urban heat steaming up from sun-baked streets. The smell winds its way down through her lungs to her blood, rapturing her slight body with a wildness. Static in her black hair, she looks back voraciously at Caul, her eyes filled with the desire to devour flesh.

“That smell of electricity and rain. I love it.”

He senses the change, a change he has not been in the presence of for years. But instinctively, the familiar reaction of being vaguely disturbed at its foreboding, triggers a melancholy that haunts the unknown fate of his existence. He brings the car to a halt, but not close enough to the restaurant they are going. They run through the wind-sweeping gusts of heavy rain pelting the earth to the shelter of the sidewalk eaves.

Wasteland Mix: Fragment 100