It was as hot as all Hades.
The sun not a benevolent yellow orb in the sky giving life to the land but instead it was a white hot spot of malevolence searing everything.
The old man straightened and for the umpteenth time wiped his wet brow with an angry swipe of his arm. Now, not only was his arm and hand streaked with dirt but most of his face had a covering of sweat patterned dirt caked to his skin.
It looked rather surreal.
Especially in light of the fact that he was a beloved and respected Businessman of the district.
Rarely seen without collar and tie. A well tailored business suit. The latest cut from Saville Row in London. A figure of respectability instead of what he resembled at this moment.
A person of no fixed abode.