Beads of perspiration formed on her skin. It was these lonely, hot summer nights that she couldn’t bear, these balmy evenings that lengthened into humid and unbearable nights, where inky blackness served only to torment.
She turned on her back and stared at the ceiling, reminiscing, remembering, recalling the night she handed over his name…
(55 Words)
Written for Lisa McCourt Hollar’s 55 Word Challenge
The Last Krystallos 
Tense, a great building moment, what happened that night!