She tossed and turned, tangling the bed sheets around her legs. God she was hot, she was so sick and tired of this relentless hot, dry easterly wind. Every window rattled as it gusted, blowing hard against the old house.
The constant noise was driving her insane. The trees whipping around outside her bedroom window, their shadows creating a weird dance upon the bedroom wall, back-lit by the full moon. The grasses whispering and hissing like some ghostly presence as the wind pushed and pulled them in its ebb and flow. She slammed the window closed, pulling the blinds across in her fury - she needed to sleep.
She woke, startled by the crash as another pot plant gave in to the constant pressure of the wind and fell on its side. Sunlight was streaming in the cracks in the blinds and still the wind howled. For days and nights on end this wind had announced it's presence in the constant noise that seemed to surround her house.
She was fractious, not getting enough sleep, being cooped up inside during the hot, hot summer. She felt like she wanted to rip her head off, to relieve the pressure in her sinuses, the constant itchiness of her eyes and ears. Her throat so dry, leaving her parched, no matter how much water she drank. Her allergies raging in protest against the pollen and dust that somehow made it inside her house even when she was forced to close the windows to keep out the noise and the heat.
She longed for the cool winter rains, to hear their soothing beat on her roof. Surely it was time for some rain. She was over the constant blue of the sky, barely broken by a wispy white cloud. But summer loomed on before her, another month at least before there was even the slightest hope of rain.
She tried to soothe herself in the shower, allowing her mind to wander, to dream that she was standing under a cool winter's downpour, feeling the water flow over her skin, cooling and soothing, slowly taking away the tension. Soon, soon she told herself, soon the rain will come, the relief she so longed for. Soon ....