An imperial moon hangs brightly in a night sky filling with clouds as dry ice blown across a squid ink stage, hauled there by Orion’s chains, suspended across sprockets of constellations that spotlight the naked trees performing ballets in the wind.Earlier, fine, wet rain had permeated everything, turning asphalt into a rink, bringing polished sheen to stones. The Monster hid under its scarlet cover, sulking, brooding, yearning for release. Later, the sky had cleared, becoming cold and brittle, a watery sun trickling down from the heavens, promising more than it could deliver. And hope prevailed, faith in the elements like an open bet. A dry tomorrow would unleash the Monster to the roads, seeking the sticky black paths, blown dry for its growling, malevolent journey.
2 comments:
Don't be a wuss - ride in the wet, it's a real test of your handling skills :)
Ha! I passed my test, years ago, in snow and ice. I commuted in London for several years in all manner of downpours. I've got my foul weather wings. Ergo, I know how grim and uncomfortable it is, so these days, whilst not avoiding bad weather, I don't go out of my way to choose it.
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