a snapshot

There are moments that take place, moments that emerge, that seem to remain fixed in eternity. Maybe not fixed in time, because these moments come to be from beyond time and find their place here. Right now, I'm in Savannah, it's summer, 2010, and I'm counting my last five dollars and eighty seven cents. I looked up, and a bolt of lightning struck the power line pole next to the take-away diner I was hoping to get my fourth meal of the week from. I dropped a few nickels and you turned around, as though I and my nickels had caused the clap of lightning/thunder/approaching storm. I nodded awkwardly, trying to decide whether or not to pick up my change, and you turned back to the counter in front of you. The power had only gone for a few seconds, and no one inside seemed too concerned about the oncoming weather. I realized that I was concerned about rain drops falling onto your cascading red hair and wondered if I should say something. You took a deep sigh.