It was everything I wasn’t ready for. Perhaps it was the prismatic gleam of the foggy walkways, the scent of the rain’s after party, or the drunken hues painting the ink-glazed midnight, which led me to see her in an unspeakable light. Which led our summer-soaked dresses to tangle with the sins we didn’t commit. Hands intertwined —oh so platonically— we fled from that high school party filled with counterfeit adults with which we never fit in. The carousers circled us, sirens invaded the air, yet the only thing I could think was, “Oh how romantic it is, to be running in the rain with someone like her.”
© joelleviray