WEATHER REPORT
Day started cooperative.
No arguments.
Light showed up on time,
reflections honoured their contract.
I followed the usual protocols —
Coffee,
pace,
direction.
Thoughts arranged themselves
into functional selections.
The sky remained nominal.
Which was the first irregularity.
Because neutrality, when sustained,
starts behaving like intent.
Nothing dramatic.
Not enough to alarm the rational
Enough to challenge casualty.
Light abandoned its usual democracy.
Became selective. Editorial.
Certain surfaces received attention.
Others remained theory.
Temperature hovered in that indecisive range
where physics stops
and psychology begins.
Air gained density —
Like thought under scrutiny.
Sound recalibrated its volume.
Not silence — precision.
Every noise suddenly aware
of its own position.
I didn’t clock it immediately.
Pressure shifts rarely announce themselves.
You came in quiet —
like pressure in the air.
Didn’t clock it at first.
But the signs were there.
Wind offered counsel without coercion.
A rare rhetorical discipline.
No push.
No pull.
Just a recalibration of probable direction.
Clouds practiced restraint.
Refused the cheap theatrics of gathering.
Instead, they spaced —
like thinkers
leaving room for dissent.
I won’t mythologise the moment
I’m not built that way.
But the weather stopped being descriptive
And started making claims.
I adjusted without ceremony —
changed pace,
altered breath.
Not because something happened,
but because something
refused
to leave.
Time loosened slightly.
Minutes lost their spine.
Efficiency felt inappropriate.
Accuracy felt correct.
I’m not attributing agency.
I’m careful.
Still —
the climate began addressing me
as an equal.
By evening, the sky returned to baseline,
as if nothing had been raised.
But the city felt annotated,
in a hand I couldn’t trace.
I’ve known days that demand interpretation.
This one demanded restraint.
Some truths prefer to be noticed
rather than declared.
If repetition occurs,
I’ll concede pattern.
If not,
I’ll concede coincidence.
Still —
the barometer’s been unreliable lately.
The needle won’t settle
where it should.
J.T.