The Light the Stream Dragged Along

Footfall Shimmer Summer evenings are long. If you sit still, they pass a little more slowly than the day comes to its end. Looking down from an apartment balcony, the stream was dragging the streetlights out long. The evening wind brushed over the ripples and went. Your shoulders eased down, little by little. It wasn't that the evening had grown heavier, but that it had grown a little lighter. The way the stream drags the light along like that, something like it stays on the roads we walk, too. Tonight passed as quietly as the sound of that water. That cat, you were watching it too.