Sudden Spray

The lot was just dirt,

cracked into islands

of dry brown, where weeds used to be.

I was thinking about nothing,

just the sound of my shoes

on the broken sidewalk.

Then a hiss, sharp and sudden,

like a snake spitting.

A geyser of cold water

splashed across the curb,

over the hood of a parked car,

darkening the concrete

into irregular shapes, fast.

It didn't stop.

Just kept going, a pointless arc

into the empty air,

wasting itself,

soaking everything it wasn't for.

I just stood there,

wet on my jacket sleeve,

startled.