Church Street: Flash On

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. She didn’t need to. flash on church street

But I carried that pink with me all the way home. The rain had just stopped

I walked past. The flash faded. Church Street went back to its evening routine—damp, quiet, a little lonely. flash on church street

Then I saw it: a single flash of neon pink in a doorway.