Puddles

Samantha Peterson studied the ground below her feet as she steadily stepped, one boot in front of the other, in front of the other, in front of the other. Deep in thought, she was barely aware of the raindrops falling onto her hair. She preferred to walk in a drizzle without an umbrella. The chill gave her something to react against, driving her further inside herself, exactly where she liked to be.

A puddle came into her view. Despite the clouds’ best efforts, the sunlight was only ever filtered here, spring, summer, winter and fall. And so the puddle reflected the sky in silver, not gray.  But the trees were dark. Their reflected branches sent her gaze deep into the pool.

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