The lowered sun

The lowered sun fills the whitewashed porch with gentle dry warmth, emptiness that erases the clutter of driftwood and nets, a clarity of submersion that cascades in front of the open door, also swelling with empty luminance. The sun refelects white in a parked auto windscreen. The light falling across the sidewalk rising up between the car and the line of buildings is more rich, has slowed as it penetrates greater depths of floating particulates and moisture. The horizon of the sidewalk is colourless, the sky green where it is met. Always over the crest of the sidewalk the explosions let open by doorways, colours, and reflections subside and slough away. You could not just pause. You wait long enough and the colourlessness washes over you. It moves as you move, although sliding back toward the open water whilst pulling shades down across these upsloping roads. You could not allow it to meet you passively. You could reach it sooner. You wash into the neutrality, the empty colourlessness, if only for that moment before the pressure of detail and stimulation rises again in negative. She penetrates further inland, centerless amongst the crossings and convolutions of the route. She steps away from the open door.