Flash On Church: Street Updated

She didn’t look at me. She didn’t need to.

I was walking fast, head down, avoiding the cracks where water pooled like liquid silver. The street was emptying. Shops were pulling down their iron grates with a sound like chain mail. Tourists had fled. Even the dogs looked bored. flash on church street

Flash on Church Street

The rain had just stopped. That’s the first thing you notice on Church Street after a storm—the smell. Wet granite, old incense, and the faint sweet rot of marigolds from the vendor on the corner. She didn’t look at me

Not a sign. Not a reflection.