White lightning flashes in the sky and my glass as the old man pours out his Bell Jar best. 
The air is thick, heavy with summertime heat. The dog days have came and it seems as if they will never leave. 
I sip my drink, it does nothing to fight off the heat.  
I sigh, wiping the evening sweat from my face. 
“A storms brewing.” I say, another flash washing the sky. 
The old man just shakes his head,
“No rain tonight.” 
I dont even have to ask why, I know he will tell me. 
“Heat Lighting” he finishes, watching in silence as the sky lights up again.