Image credit: Mikey G. via funpoper.com
As Miriam stepped onto the street she was greeted by the familiar smell of rain. The air was warm and slightly humid, making her feel as though she were breathing through a thin layer of cotton. The rain had petered out into a light mist, which made everything appear softer somehow.
Ottawa at night was always a spectacular sight – with the glowing skyscrapers pointing up into the sky, and brilliant lights shining in all sorts of colours – red, green, orange and blue. The wet pavement acted like a mirror, reflecting the neon lights and making them look like an abstract painting. The cement was slippery, and Miriam skidded along the street, feeling ridiculously happy. Rain was romantic, whatever anybody said.
She took a deep breath and stopped to stare up at the infinite blackness above her. The sky had never seemed so very close before. For once she didn’t mind that all she could see of it was the narrow strip that was visible between the towering office buildings on either side. People brushed past her on the crowded sidewalk, damp and out of sorts. Nobody wanted to linger in that narrow side street. After all, it was Friday, and they were eager to be home. But Miriam was in no hurry. She was alive to the colours and the sounds of cars honking, and banjo music playing from a street busker on the corner. It was as though she were experiencing it all for the first time. And as a matter of fact, she was.