03 September 2018

Scene #33 "Heat Lightning"


     She leaned against the rail, looking out over the river valley below, listening to the soft shushing sound of the wind in the locust trees and the diffuse whir of traffic from across the river. The lights over there and all across the hills were strangely comforting, perhaps because they transformed a run-down hull of urban decay into something almost beautiful. Either way, it was the kind of midsummer night she adored: soft, and barely below the threshold of being too warm; unoppressively humid; breezy, cloudy. There was always a presence to this kind of night, a loud quiet that was like a stereo turned way up without any music being on. It was an inscrutable prelude to an unknowable event.
     A sustained rush of warm air, a deep breath full of the scent of night, eyes closed, senses tuned, a world of possibility lightly brushing its fingertips along the blank canvas of desire, of dreams, of hopes...she listened, she felt, she tasted the very air, sensing in it something unstoppable and welcome, a long-sought moment, a break from the arrow-straight vector of life she had unwittingly followed up to this moment, this indescribable Now with its infinite depth and singular vibration.
     She opened her eyes and saw on the distant horizon dim amber flashes in the sky. People called it heat lightning, and though she never really understood why, she did know the feeling: that first distant rush of some kind of electric flux, a storm that clears the air, the torrent that brings calm.


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©️ 2018 B. W. Flatley

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