Summer Rain

Sunday Snippet

There’s nothing like the smell of rain on hot tarmac. That first sign of coolth after a heatwave. It was like that the day she left us. It was my birthday. I don’t remember what we did that day. In fact, I don’t remember anything other than the fact that it was warm; so warm. The morning was bright and sunny. It almost dazzled us as we walked into the garden. Then, suddenly the clouds rolled across the sky. She told us to go inside; that we didn’t want to get caught in the rain. I thought it would have been fun, but she insisted. The rain started falling before we even made it into the house. We went into the sitting room and sat down, waiting for her to come in, but she didn’t come. Eventually, I went to the front door and opened it. I looked outside, to where I’d seen her last, but she wasn’t there. I stepped out of the door, and the smell hit me. Cool rain on hot tarmac. Even now, it reminds me of her.