Summer Rain At Dusk

That feeling when sad scrabbles at the edges of your soul, trying to find a way in. An afternoon shift at a co-op gallery where no one buys anything.  A summer rainstorm at dusk and the click of balls on the pool table next door while you wait out the clock.  The blurred shape of trees through mist.

Who sees you if you don't see yourself?

Some days you walk the edge of the disaster curve.  Near misses and close calls.  Cars backing in parking lots without looking.  Roads crisscrossed with running water over a foot deep.   That feeling when the only person to really see you all day has the tang of the unbalanced.

And after the rush of adrenaline, the one that has your foot shaking on the gas pedal long after your bout with the road-turned-river, wears off, the brain immediately jumps to what-if.  What if I forgot to lock up before heading out?  What if I've somehow damaged my car by driving through the water?  What if, what if, what if...

Go away little what if... voices and let me enjoy the storm clouds painted coral and peach.

And just to be on the safe side, I'm staying in tonight and reading a book.  I think I've pushed my luck about as far as it'll go today.

visit Samantha Byrnes' gallery online...