A hot afternoon

The sun shone at its brightest. The sky was picturesque, a beautiful blue, stretching over the bustling streets of the city. A group of giggling, young children ran through the streets, gracefully navigating through the multitudes of weary people, desperately searching for shelter from the heat. A hot, salty wind blew through air, lifting, dancing, causing the black hair of a girl walking alone to float gracefully behind her. She sighed, pulling her hair back and bent forward to peer above the large, brightly-coloured beach umbrella, propped up by generous cafe owner, that currently protected her, and a few others, from the far-reaching rays of the sun. Apart from a few white, tranquil clouds suspended above, there was nothing in sight but the vast extent of blue.
The girl knew she had to leave her current sanctuary soon.
She took a breath and stared purposefully at a tiny sign in the distance that promised cold drinks and air conditioning. She furrowed her brow determinedly, blew a few unruly locks out of her face, and ran out into the sun.
Her feet, slapping loudly across the pavement, interrupted a man from his coffee. He sat across from an angry young lady quietly, his eyes following the running girl. As he sat in silence, the voice of the young lady in front of him never ceased. The words were visibly harsh, biting. As a scorching wind, a searing, numbing tempest, they ballooned over him, rendering him drained. Angry fingers snapped demandingly in his face, bringing his eyes from the running girl to the piercing, blue eyes of the one in front of him. A question left her lips, and his eyes squeezed shut. Anger replaced the numbness that had enveloped him just seconds before. Bitterly, with fists clenched, he uttered a single phrase. The girl sat back immediately, sharply, as if it slapped her across the face. Tears stung her eyes, bitterly, breaking loose from the confines of thick, brown lashes. Blinking them back, she ran from him, into the heat. He regretted his words the second they escaped from his anger, out of his mouth. He ran after her, calling after her, wishing she would turn.
An older man, with his wife on his arm, saw this, smiled sadly, and mused on past quarrels with playful voices. They strolled leisurely, stopping at a shop selling big, beautiful sun hats. His wife adjusted her sunglasses, laughing as her husband placed numerous, ridiculously garish, sun hats on her head. She modeled each, displaying each hat with unique expressions and strategic poses. Their voices were music, entwining and separating, harmonizing perfectly, lingering in the salty, summer air.
Behind the counter, the shop owner couldn’t help smiling. He watched the older couple for a while as they moved from the hats to the t-shirts guaranteeing colorful advertisement of the wearer’s love for a certain food. He sighed. He turned to a beaming, dancing woman in a lilac dress behind him. Her sparkling eyes were the only thing that remained still, the rest of her, all movement. The woman was as bright and lovely as the lilac silk that floated around her. So full of life, so full of color, she seemed to whirl right out of the frame that imprisoned her. He was transported to another world. In that moment, he was happy, dancing with the woman in the lilac dress.
A clatter brought him back into the present. He turned sharply. The older couple was gone. A wide-eyed teenage boy had replaced them. The stand lay on the floor, the hats scattered all over, almost purposefully, as if each was placed carefully, one balanced delicately on a nearby comrade, another casually propped against the wall, alone. The two remained motionless for some time, a frozen snapshot.
The shop owner’s blink shattered the moment of stillness, and the boy started apologizing profusely. The shop owner waved his hands, assuring the boy that he did nothing wrong, and the two began picking up the sun hats. The boy, red from embarrassment, picked an equally red ball cap up off the ground and asked for the price. The shop owner grinned and answered with a nonsensical number. The boy laughed and fumbled with the tag attached to the cap. He reached for his wallet, but the shop owner shook his head. The boy refused at first, but the shop owner insisted. Finally, the boy nodded his head appreciatively, and the ring of the bell at the door indicated his departure. The shop owner smiled and watched the door close, distracted. He was still dancing with the woman in the lilac dress.
A rush of scorching air hit the boy as he stepped out onto the street. He looked at the red cap in his hands and smiled. He cautiously placed it on his head, looking at himself in his reflection on the window of a nearby shop. The red cap stood still for a few seconds, then began weaving hastily through the streets, joining the multitudes of weary people, desperately searching for shelter from the heat.

And, above them all, the sun shone at its brightest. The sky was picturesque, a beautiful blue.