Tyres sloshed through ever deepening puddles as unrelenting rain sheeted onto glistening tarmac. Work weary drivers turned up tea-time news and switched on headlights to cut through the gloom.
A lone cyclist zipped a box of chocolates inside his jacket, a surprise for his wife who was eating for two, adjusted his ear buds and pulled forward his sodden hood.
He couldn’t hear water gushing into overflowing drains, he didn’t hear the screech of brakes or crunching metal. He didn’t notice the momentarily stillness or hear anguished cries as they sliced through the silence. He didn’t hear the sirens. He didn’t feel anything.
The council worker undid his top button and loosened his tie. The heat was unbearable. He took his pen and checked all the ‘No’ boxes on his clipboard. He could see no reason to install speed bumps here. It would be a waste of resources. He strode towards his air-conditioned office without a second glance at the bunch of wilted flowers, cable tied to the railings. The only visible reminder of a life that once was.
Written for Streams of Consciousness Saturday. Write following a prompt (this weeks was water, earth, fire or air) and post. No editing allowed.