Real Things Are Invisible

It was a weird kind of weather.

Not dry but not wet. Muggy.

I didn’t know if I should wear short sleeves or take an umbrella. It didn’t feel right taking both. I took short sleeves.

I wasn’t going anywhere particular. Just out. I was feeling suffocated. It was one of those days.

It started to rain. A light drizzle. I was along the river and sheltered under a bridge. Some ducks swam by.

There was nothing under the bridge. Nothing but time and space and air to think.

Often, the more there was on diplay, the less there was to see.

The rain continued.

I was lucky I hadn’t brought my umbrella.