There’s a smell in the air that tells me it is going to rain. In the summer, when the tar of the streets gets hot, it gives off a very distinctive smell when it’s about to rain. I learned that living in a small town. For some reason, people from the city find it amazing.

What I find amazing is that they never noticed it.

If I’ve learned anything from my internship here in the city is that so many people take little things like that for granted. They don’t stop to look at things, and it makes me miss home.

A beautiful boy a couple of steps in front of me is engaged in a delicate balancing act between a large stack of notebooks and papers. I realize two seconds before it happens that they’re about to hit the ground.

I stoop down to help him pick up his things. He looks at me curiously. “Thank you,” he says. “You know, a lot of people would have just walked right by.”

He gets up and falls into step beside me.

“It’s going to rain,” he says, sniffing at the air. “You can smell it.”