Sunday, September 6, 2015

Waiting for the rain

The house is quiet, dull afternoon light falling on scattered mementos and curving around their edges. Shadow and color, and when I think to really look, they're different than they seemed before. Outside, the air is thick with the promise of precipitation. The sky is gently bruised blue-gray. Barely any wind. On a day like this, I think across the miles and words separating us and keep placing one foot in front of the other until I've actually moved somewhere into the blurry landscape before me. Ah, here come the raindrops. All it takes is one thought, one whisper, and for the time being, everything rushes into sudden focus.