This was originally thought up on May 11, 2015 but first published on November 24, 2015. This was a great day. Remembering rain is always great.
“what happened to you this morning?”
“all i could hear were tenuous trickles of water spotting themselves on my window, my eyes, replete with languor and my body still half dead from the sleep — all tried to ensure it was the sound of elation.
i first deemed it a dream of me in a salle de bains. but as my body crawled out of its rest, my brain assured me this was conscious life. i didn’t need to pull the heavy curtains aside.
it was rain.
in moments, the sounds became that of everything that i wanted to listen to for the rest of my life. my first instinct at my blurred sight of the water was to pray, and i prayed out loud. i asked for it to be my patron today, and to be the world’s benefactor. and i secretly supplicated for the rain to keep going forever.
i don’t understand what it is about rain that touches me so; but there lies a section within me that almost is devoid of the desire to find out. there are some who may mark that choice as desultory, and others may commiserate it — but all i will do is love. i will love the rain for as long as i live, i think. i mean, i hope.
the waters from the heavens–i mean they take me out of this life. i can’t understand how and i don’t want to. these scarce assurances of heavenly peace are more than i could ask for.”
“i hope you feel rain tomorrow again.”