Sunset Wedge

I turned the corner briskly looking in, not out focusing on something deemed important and there far down the canyoned street where stone and heaven sharply meet

A wedge of winter sunset filled the triangle with flame beneath the oppressive weight of cloud upon cloud-slate.

It startled me with its sharp cry of color. I made a note of it and there'll be winter evenings hence when I'll recall magnificence and how the wedge held tight to deep rose promises beneath descending night.

We want to hear, did we miss an angle we should have covered? Should we come back to this topic? Or just give us a rating for this story. We want to hear from you.