It was raining when I set out but I didn’t mind. I was heading home. I’ll dry off and make hot tea, I thought.
Turning to go home the long way around, I caught a whiff of the last few blooms of jasmine.
Drops of water tap my helmet and spatter my glasses. The damp of my dress, the chill of the breeze, and a kind of wild joy just exhilarating enough to occasionally take my breath.