Scattering

"The pavement darkens, and blooms become battered, leaving petals plastered to the concrete in blisters of poppy red and lilac blues. So many colors, and that’s before you even look up."

Like most summer rainstorms, this one started with the bruised sky, and the crush of heat. The spits began to form, darkening the sun-soaked pavement and wringing out the structure of the day, the air, the clouds. Standing there, you feel it all; the prickle of goose-bumped skin, the weight of long hair plastering quickly, and shivering shoulders. You stay there for a long time, just being.