Spring - the air smells of wet earth and gasoline after rain. Puddles reflect grey sky, broken by bicycle wheels. Children chase each other through the park, jackets unzipped. Old women sell tulips at the station. A cherry blossom branch bends low over the fence, petals dark with moisture. Nearby, someone’s washing their honda crx in the driveway, soap sliding down blue paint. Sun breaks through. Everything gleams. Everything begins again.