overwhelmed

“It feels like I’m standing in hot water,” I said, “equal aqueous pressure all around.”
“Yeah, you could just wave your arms and float up.”
The heat and humidity was stifling. I looked up and thought, if those clouds would just break up a bit, some of this heat and moisture would rise and we could breathe.
All afternoon, the sky got thicker and thicker and pressed the heat down harder. As is often the modus operandi, rather than break up and provide relief, they grew dark and too full and heavy for themselves until they reached a point of discomfort too much to bear. A single thunderous belch and all vapor gathered to droplets and ceased to defy gravity and like a bucket turned upside-down, a torrent of emotion poured from the black sky.
It didn’t take long, the bucket soon emptied and the sky lightened and a new cool breeze began to stir the damp, tear-washed leaves. The lightened sky seemed to smile a half-relieved, half-embarrassed grin, and continued a less urgent drizzle and occasional sob until all was emptied, and the surrendered sky had its last tear dried.