Neon Powder

As the pavement dried, dark stains of yesterday's rain slowly receded toward the street gutters, leaving a thin layer of neon chalk behind. Dips and nicks in the road still held shallow pools of water and the sickly yellow powder swirled around in clumps atop the surface. Madelyn surveyed the pollen-coated world from her apartment building stoop, leaning against it's stone rail with a single outstretched arm. With her other hand, she balanced a rusted pink bicycle. Though the gears and chain held promise, the tires drooped slightly where the rubber met the ground.

Blossoms illuminated the dogwoods lining the sidewalk like rows of suspended white lights hovering and shining brightly against the overwhelming green. It was a beautiful day, breathing opportunity. Madelyn set out on her bicycle not sure of where she was headed. Clipped glimpses of sunlight flashed through gaps in the trees as she leaned back on her seat. With her face to the sky, a cool wind rushed down her exposed throat, sending chills through her body. Her hair stood on end, and the thrill felt refreshing. The world spun forward, and she sat up straight, hitting the brakes hard. She paused only a moment before kicking off and rounding the next street corner.

The air had since warmed up during Madelyn's ride. The sun now shone overhead and sought out hiding shadows in the world below. But the wind blew from the east, carrying the cool depth of the sea. The sharp, salt air filled her lungs with each deep breath. She was headed to the pier.

The familiar sloshing of water against the sea wall welcomed Madelyn to one of her favorite places in the city. Along the shore, barnacled concrete pilings scraped against a swaying dock. All around her, heavy rust clung to exposed metal like dried blood. Her muscles tensed slightly as she stepped onto the weathered boards of the pier, imagining their prickly splinters and old dampness. After leaning her bike against the nearest railing, Madelyn then strode a ways down the boardwalk before lying down flat on her stomach. Peering over the structure's ledge, she searched the shallow waters below. What she was looking for, she couldn't have told you herself, but in the murky ocean, she thought she might find something worth looking at. A fiddler crab crawled from beneath a submerged rock. Where is his family? A school of nondescript minnows rushed by, weaving in and out of the clouds of sand. Where are they going?

"You lost somethin'?"

The voice from behind startled her. She rolled to her side abruptly. The sun was to his back and a dark silhouette loomed over her. Squinting, Madelyn slid from beneath his towering stance, and regained her standing position with the straightening of her garments.

"Um. No, I was just having a look."

She fiddled with her bracelets, loosely hanging around her left wrist, but stared straight into his eyes. A heavy brow cast shadows down his face toward the equally dense stubble adorning his jaw. Madelyn's eyes wandered across his shoulders and chest, that pressed snugly against a white tee. His Thigh-high goulashes were fastened tightly over faded jeans.

"Cool boots," was all she could think to say.

"Thanks toots," he replied with a crooked grin,"I'm a fisherman."