The forecast said rain for a day. Three days later it was still raining. Days and nights filled with the sound of thunder, rain pelting on windows, dreary skies that make day seem like night.
Simple streetlights transition from authoritative spheres of color into penetrating beams of red, yellow and green pouring color along roadways and sidewalks. Headlights and streetlights drip in shades of yellow and white, tail lights pulsate cherry red bursts throughout the scene.
People bustle along hidden under canopies of octopusing fabrics, intermittently wrestling with them when wind gusts defy the very structure of their essence, inverting their tentacles and turning them from cozy shelters of protection into skewers of litigation, rendering them useless for their intended purpose.
Stop in the skyway with me. Disregard the passersby hurrying to work. Pause for a moment and take a look.
Simple streetlights transition from authoritative spheres of color into penetrating beams of red, yellow and green pouring color along roadways and sidewalks. Headlights and streetlights drip in shades of yellow and white, tail lights pulsate cherry red bursts throughout the scene.
People bustle along hidden under canopies of octopusing fabrics, intermittently wrestling with them when wind gusts defy the very structure of their essence, inverting their tentacles and turning them from cozy shelters of protection into skewers of litigation, rendering them useless for their intended purpose.
Stop in the skyway with me. Disregard the passersby hurrying to work. Pause for a moment and take a look.
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