vivid

It's raining today. The world is all deep greys and greens and blues, and all other colors show through even more vividly, having been washed in the pure and lovely shower. Colors like the red of a firetruck, and the flashing blue, white and red lights. They cry, "We're coming, we're coming," and I say a prayer as they pass by. The other cars all move aside and the firetruck parts traffic like it's parting the red sea. I'm on the shoulder of the road, watching as the flashing lights pass by me and continue down the street. Slowly the cars all pull back onto the road and traffic ebbs back into it's usual flow.

I have a friend who began firefighter academy yesterday. When he's done with his training, I'll probably wonder if any truck that flys past me on another day, rainy or not, is one that he is on, called to some mission that these modern knights rush towards, helping and saving.
"We're coming, we're coming." The whisper under the sirens scream.