I was in the car, waiting for Jason, and I thought, He'd better hurry, it's going to rain soon.
And in a matter of seconds, there were swollen rainsplotches wetting up the windshield. I felt proud for a second, like maybe I had caused the rain with my mind. It probably wasn't my mind, though; there was probably some other climatic explanation, but you never know. You just never know.
I looked out the smudged window, searching for the sight of Jason's brown linen shirt hurrying toward me. Instead, I saw something traveling through the air, many somethings, many tiny somethings traveling through the air, aiming slantingly for the ground.
It wasn't rain.
It was thicker than rain, and more opaque. It was lighter than rain, and it was whiter than rain. Quite possibly it was even righter than rain, but I wasn't able to ascertain this for sure.
No, not pollen.
No, not dust, you idiot.
Confetti? A trick of the light? Vision problems? Tiny invading aliens in tiny clever disguises?
Please let it be something else...anything else...just not...not....
Frantic with the need to find any kind of proof to the contrary, I rolled down my window and stuck out my hand. For a fraction of a second, a tiny crystal sat in my hand. They say that every single one in the whole wide world is unique in some way. Every one. But they have short life spans. Soon it was nothing more than a very small puddle sitting at the exact place where one thatched line of my palm intersects with another. Then the puddle spread, subtly following the lines of my hand, and it wasn't long before it had disappeared completely into my thirsty skin, the way much larger puddles will leach into the soil.