lily of the incas,
@sgnxapryl:
“Well, according to my weather app,” yes, Apryl has one. “There’s an eighty percent chance of rain tomorrow afternoon. Guess that picnic will have to wait, huh?”
a grey cloud of concern over her head, invisible, nonetheless; but it’s in the way she frowns and the silence drawing itself out from apryl’s words. “mm,” suzu murmurs to herself. a response of acknowledgement, neither good or bad, positive or negative, tip toeing in the neutral grey area where it’s safe. comfortable. refuses to disappoint in case if weather change ups leave a rainy day for neglect.
not that she doesn’t believe apryl, no, but she ends up giving the weather app a whirl. it’s the disbelief rooted in the back of her head. the start of the week baked in the sun’s warmth, humidity prickling the skin with summer’s doors open to the northern hemisphere. the air thick with the fragrance of in season flowers, having been watered, cared for, weeds plucked out of the harsh heat. it’s beginning to feel a lot like june, its next door neighbor july waiting to pounce when nightfall arrives.
“damn,” she presses her lips together. “seventy percent, at that. looks like tuesday and sunday might be our best bet..”
