Not so long ago the water darkened clouds rolled in over the trees. The lightning crashed and the thunder sounded, the first drops hit the ground with me as there witness. I stand on the porch and the drops fall harder and harder, the lighting veins across the sky. The ground is coated with water and I watch as the sheets of water wave in in front of me, hitting the ground with a never ending pitter patter of each small drop making contact. I stand there, hands in my pocket, absorbing the moment. Before long someone came walking up the street. No umbrella, simply a water proof jacket and a few books at his side. Everything on his person was drenched. "I feel bad for him..." My mother sounded sympathetic behind me on the porch swing. I nodded slightly, I felt a little bad for him, but mostly I envied him. I would have liked nothing more than to be trapped in a cool summers storm. I watched his figure slowly move passed my house. He didn't look upset, he didn't speed his pace, simply walked, as if nothing were wrong with being drenched. He noticed my eyes following his movement. He smiled slightly, holding up a hand. A silent way of saying, "What are you looking at? I can see through your face you like the rain too..." I smiled and held up a small wave as well. "I am wishing I were out there beside you, with no choice but to walk threw the drops to get home." Those silent actions was the connection. The small way of saying "You're no the only one who likes getting caught in the rain... "
 Pressure Sensative · Thu Jun 28, 2007 @ 03:43am · 0 Comments |
