It's hot.

The rain is dripping from the gutters from the fourth rumblestorm today because it's thick as soup out there and clashing fronts are surging and bursting in the sky. A small fan is pointed at my face. I've got my foot up on the computer tower. Next to me is THE CITY ALWAYS WINS by Omar Robert Hamilton and my reading specs balanced on top, waiting for me to finish. I'll be interviewing him shortly for Full Stop but meantime spending my days under the influence of the urgency of his cadence. What could be more important a topic for literature than revolution? How do we spark a movement? Direct the chaos? How do we stay cool under fire? I don't know, but pull up a chair and let's find out.