Imagine…a warm, desert breeze streaming in through the open window in silent gusts. The drapery whips following its path. Thunder rolls across your ears from the monsoon flowing down the distant mountains. Wind slides past your face, through your hair, leaving its dry scent on your skin.
Outside, dark clouds illuminate with erratic bolts of white light. The blackness of the impending magnifies the brightness of the clear blue building stern shadows down the sierras’ slopes.
Stepping out the door, the flat tan extends flawlessly, spare the scattered brush. Winds blow, separated by your form, then halts and crescendos again and again. From the corner of your eye a light, virtually transparent swirl of sand rises into the blue and races towards the dark. It diminishes and vanishes, raining its abducted grains to the tan floor.
The footsteps of the first drops splash the sand, deepening its color in patches. The moisture slips beneath the surface without hesitation as another takes the place of the previous. Frequencies increase as the blue’s brilliance dissipates.
Bare feet leave the wooden porch, feeling the dampening soil between their toes. Whispers of prints are left with each step, as they venture under the dark. Beads of wetness accumulate on the flowing fabric of your dress. Pin points spread into one another and drip from the bottom edge, cleaning soiled feet.
Rain slides over your body in sheets as light flashes above. The intensity reveals itself only briefly, yet the dark’s gift to the tan is delivered.
The blue brilliance returns, piercing the fleeing edge of the dark. Light surrounds your moistened body, lifting the beaded drops from the hanging cloth. Dry hands of warmth regain their power.
Thunder rolls across your ears from the vanishing monsoon.