Today, as I drove home from work, heading westward, the clouds covering half the sky let loose rain, fat droplets that immediately slicked the roads and slowed traffic to an easy, contemplative pace.
I held one hand in front of me to block the mass of light descending towards the ocean, used the other hand to flip on the windshield wipers. My neck craned back, my entire body tilting to attempt to avoid the blinding glare. The rain pattered down. The new Azure Ray song blared from the radio...
Move on, move on, It's like the clock is pacing
A moving truck pulled in front of me, tall enough to block out the sun. My hand lingered in the air, a reflex now unnecessary, while my eyes began to see again, focusing on the windshield wipers of other cars, in sync with my own. Focusing on the soft peach sunset, the grey clouds, and just the faintest remaining hint of blue.
Like moving into the future, I thought to myself. Difficult, clouded.