Breaking Skye
“The evening fog had rolled in early, and the air was cool and damp. Even now, at night, she could see the fog obscuring the stars and moon, could feel it all around her. She’d always love the faint tang of sea salt in the air in San Francisco. It soothed her raw nerves a bit. But only a bit tonight. Most of her was thrumming with anticipation like some drumbeat deep in her body, shimmering out to her limbs, through every nerve ending.The cab made a straight shot down the Church Street hill, the...n through the east end of Noe Valley. The city’s lovely Victorian structures flashed by outside the windows: store fronts, bars and restaurants. She was acutely aware of everything—the sensations in her own body, but also the city outside the dark, womblike confines of the cab. Neon signs, the glow of streetlights, the chugging buses, a group of people standing outside a bar. Color and sound and scent all around her.She realized then that she was worked up into an incredible state of hyper-awareness, a lovely, nearly painful awareness she’d never felt before.Almost there.Her fingers tapped the vinyl seat on either side of her thighs, which were pressed tightly together as she tried to suppress some of the tension between them.MoreLess
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