It was a warm, muggy August evening, perfect for sipping an ice-cold beer while watching the sunset. I left my wife, Carol, reading on the couch in the air-conditioned comfort of our living room while I grabbed a can of Stroh's from the fridge and lay back on the bench on our front patio. To the west, I could see a roiling cloud formation, painted by the fading rays of the sun in hues of pink, orange and purple. The cloudbank had swallowed the stars close to the horizon, but hadn't moved high enough to obscure the crescent moon above. As I watched the clouds slowly make their way to the smile of the moon, a subtle flickering began to light up the sky.
"Hon, you gotta come see this," I said, poking my head through the storm door. "Mother Nature is putting on a little show."
Carol set her book down and joined me on the patio. "Wow," she said, admiring the summer light show. "Is it heat lightening, or do you think we're going to get a storm."
"Must be heat lightening. It doesn't feel like rain."
Our front patio is more like a small courtyard, with brick walls on three sides. This offers a fair amount of privacy, a fact that Carol appreciated as she slid an arm through the storm door to click off the porch light. The sun had completely set now, and we were bathed in twilight. "It's getting more intense," she said, and indeed the light show had picked up the pace. We watched as it flickered more and more, lighting up the cloud formations. "You're right though," she said, "I don't think it's gonna rain. It's still pretty muggy out here." With her back toward me, I watched as Carol lifted her t-shirt over her head. "Ahh, that's a little better," she said, turning toward me with a mischievous smile.
"You look very nice, hon," I said, admiring her ample breasts covered now only by a white, lacy bra. Just then the wind started to kick up.
