On the Way to Work

The sun falls on my shoulders, heavy and insistent, and the pavement seems to release its heat onto my feet.
But then the trees appear, and with them, a burst of paper flowers greets me in vibrant shades of pink and red, delicate and alive, floating like tiny origami suspended in the air.
The breeze slips through my clothes and hair, cool and gentle, making the flowers dance as if just for me, carrying with it a sweet, almost imagined scent, like a memory of an invented spring.