Surrounded by rain. Nowhere to go. Rain sheets all evening. Loose laces in my boots. The rain stopped at about 9pm, at about the same time as the feed died out. I took a shower then, in the dark, and left the extraction fan off. Great clouds of steam bloomed in the recess and the mirror. Raining myself clean, deleting transience. The urban heat fell from me then, and ceased its attentions. I stood in the bathroom drying my hair with the seconde towel, one of yours. You’d packed the other one, along with your boots. The way you stood there that morning, drying yourself in the bedroom, deciding which jacket to wear. The hooded parka, standard issue. All-weather boots, and a studded belt. Electric. The glint of subway animators in your shades, in the hot blast interior of the hyperport shuttle. Just then the power went off too, and I stood breathing there under the curfew of long distance desire.
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