Dancing on Wet Pavement

She danced across the wet pavement, arms stretched to the heavens, head thrown back to receive the blessing of the rain. Thunder rumbled and clouds roiled but there was no lightening, only the sound of heavenly furniture being moved through the halls by angels. She laughed at her own imagination.

Her heels make an interesting sound on the sidewalk as she continued her journey to her car, the rhythm becoming a tap dance. The store windows streamed with rain, everything, all the things people craved, were now out of focus, unimportant and obsolete. She needed nothing but to be alive, to breath in the wet cool of the air, and hear the staccato tap of her heals. She performed a quick two step and twirled, finishing by slipping her key into the door lock with a florish. A man getting out of his car on the opposite lane did a double take and smiled at her. She smiled back. It was a glorious day to be alive and dancing on wet pavement.