In the dark of night, one light still yet burns, frightened fingers tremble as brittle pages turn.

Fireside Mystery Theatre presents The Midnight Reading, a special summer series of dramatic recitations of dark masterpieces in miniature by the masters of the macabre.

Hello, I'm Ali Silva.

Here we are again, deep in the throes of the dog days of summer.

Hopefully, as you're listening to this, you are resting somewhere quiet and cool and dark.

An air conditioner steadily hums, or perhaps a ceiling fan, carries a refreshing summer cross breeze,

helping you to forget the oppressive rays of an unforgiving sun. Now it's just you and me, alone in the darkness.

Oh, and our own James Reeser is also here with us, to read for you a supremely sinister tale of

summertime. August Heat by William Friar Harvey. After all, there's no better way to beat the heat than with the icy chill of fear.

Finist and Rood Pheniston Road, CLEPham, August 20th, 190. I have had what I believe to be the most remarkable day in my life. And while the events are still fresh in my mind, I wish to put them down on paper as clearly as possible.

Let me say at the outset that my name is James Clarence Whittencroft.

I am forty years old, in perfect health, never having known a day's illness.

By profession I am an artist, not a very successful one,

but I earn enough money by my black and white work to satisfy my necessary wants. My only

near relative, a sister, died five years ago, so that I am independent. I breakfasted this morning at nine,

and after glancing through the morning paper,

I lighted my pipe and proceeded to let my mind wander,

in the hope that I might chance upon some subject for my pencil.

The room, though door and windows were open,

was oppressively hot.

And I had just made up my mind that the coolest and most comfortable place in the neighborhood

would be the deep end of the public swimming bath when the idea came.

...