Summer Rain

Rushing down the road, one hand clamped to the brim of her straw hat she would have caught my eye even in a crowded room, never mind on the empty lane. I know everyone who lives in this village, and there's never been a woman that looks like that. Her light brown curls cascade from beneath the flimsy headwear, falling against the olive skin of her bare shoulders. The light blue ribbon tied around the brim of her hat, matches the sleeveless dress that she's wearing, and the hem flaps in time with the rhythm of her rapid strides. 

The smile on her face is dazzling despite the sudden downpour, and as she comes to a stop next to me in the enclosed space of the old bus shelter she lets out a breathless laugh. 

 

Emily Morris 2019