Uh oh. No sunblock. Panicked thoughts of serious tan lines cross my mind as my eyes alight on the small plastic tub of pale, yellow liquid. I'll bet it wanted to grow up to be slathered on freshly baked baguette... I do believe we do deep injustice to Ms. Antoinette.
The grey skies play on my hope like a fickle lover. The low growling of thunder makes my lips twitch into a smile of anticipation, as I perch on the window ledge. Lightning... more thunder. A wind toying the leaves just so.... teasing them and me with the promise of a break in the oppressive heat. My stomach knots as my nostrils quiver.. I can smell it. The first few fat drops of rain. Shy, unsure, almost reluctant... and then bolder, stronger, harder till it's pelting down like a monsoon, streaking the dust on the ledge, splashing inside. An unusual sound. Rattling pebbles on the window. All hail!! A full on hail storm as the not so little stony nuggets drive me in to protect poor Pishka. I hug myself with joy and against the cold as my nipples contract, hail ricocheting off the ledge, scaffolding, windows and ouch!.... me!!
All too soon, it's over..... gone with the wind that lifted the day.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment