Flip Flops

It's the way my cheap Walmart flip flops sound against the puddles of standing water that still sit on the planks. 

The smell of the grass, cut just before the showers took us by surprise.

It's the tires on wet pavement, stealing their occupants away from the rain that lasted only long enough to alter our reality.

The sun, stealing the moisture from the sand as feet brave enough to wager the risk, rush back to the beach to capture the last of the evening...

While we, weary and waterlogged, flip flop our way home.

Natasha Head