March 4, 2011
Dewdrops splash onto the window separating drop from drop. As I look up beyond the glass, I see thick summer clouds, gray with sadness. I love it at this time. I open the window as far as it would go and breathe in the damp citrated air.
Sliding my chair as close to the window as it would go, a single drop of freshly drizzled rain plopped on a plain sheet of paper that I was planning to write on. The wind from the rain – storm – to – come whipped into the window as a couple of drops splattered on the table in front of me. Taking a paper towel from the metal holder I wipe up the water, but I don’t close the window. Sitting in the wooden rocking chair with my paper on the table I began to write:
We, Mike, Tina, and I, are in the parking lot of the school when Kiwi runs up eyes falling out of her sockets.
“Oh my gawd!” she racked, “Have you seen the new guys!?”
. . .
I pause for an instant. Looking outside I see that the rain is starting to pour. After about an hour of writing beside the hammering of the rain, I take off my shoes and go outside. At first the coolness of the water shocked me; but I stay where I was. I got used the temperature quickly. I walk for awhile testing my ground. Then I began to run around the in the water I loved. I walk all over the complex. I played unlit dawn; running around on the big patches of grass and staring in to the musty sky before going back inside. After going back inside I stared at the sky again. The liquid only misted now. It was gray with a tint of orange. I want it to rain again.
Then I heard the weather lady on the TV comment, “Tomorrow will be another rainy Wednesday.”