Frazer Parfum, After the Rains
She’d been carrying clouds around for months, fooled just like the rest of us into thinking them light. But clouds are the opposite of light and they only appear to float because they exist above our heads. She couldn’t shake this one. A swollen nimbus that threatened to burst at the merest two-note accord of Mezcal and sweat, or flash of blonde, or (worst of all) if she shut her eyes long enough to remember him against her skin. But then one morning she opened her eyes like a window to a luminous sky and took one of those breaths that spreads the pulse of life to every capillary. All of a sudden the world was wide and wild again.