Rain in Summer City

Three days ago the sky clouded over. Gray. Blue. Bruised-looking.

Then it poured. Clattering against the concrete path in the backyard. Gurgling through the drainpipes.

The smell wafted into the house through the open screen door. Cold. Fresh. The kind of smell that tingles in your nostrils.

Strange. While I was working I kept looking up and wondering, "What's that noise?"

Oh yeah, it's raining.

Strange. Because this has always been our summer city.

We've only known bright blue sky, scorching heat, jump-in-the-pool-or-you'll-fry kind of days.

Not this rattling, torrential splattering, this thundering sky, this purple horizon billowing black.