Rain

Writing is a process...
         you want to write? So, write.
                   Write something everyday.
                   ...something...
                             ...everyday...
                                       ...write ....

"It was a dark and story night..."
Did Snoopy ever finish his story?
It could be a good opening line.
Or maybe it has been...
"...a dark and stormy night..."

Stay inside, safe and warm. Listen to the heavy raindrops hit the ground while a blazing fire encompasses you in a cocoon of soft, yellow light.

Venture outside into the darkness. As you walk, try to avoid the puddles that quickly form on the sidewalk.

Listen to your thoughts...
...Wander through your dreams...
......remember...


She stopped walking and dared to look up at the streetlight. The yellow glow it normally threw into the night was riddled with rows of raindrops. Rain fell on her glasses, blurring her vision, and slipped down her cheeks like tears.

It was only an argument. Why did it hurt so? She had turned and walked away into the night, leaving her cousin in the middle of the store with a shopping cart full of groceries she probably couldn't pay for. They were more than just cousins; they were best friends. What had gone wrong?

Who cares, she thought as her anger returned and she began to walk again. The streets were comfortably quiet. People were tucked safely inside their homes. Rain was inconvenient.

Light flowing out from windows made the wet leaves on the trees and bushes shine. This was a nice neighborhood. She didn't want to have to leave it.

Damnit! She had a right to her life! Too bad that she had a better job than her cousin. Too bad that she had a boyfriend and cousin didn't. Was that it? The boyfriend?

It began to rain even harder. The large, heavy drops hit the ground with a vengeance. Angry raindrops battered the leaves on the trees and forced the flower's stems to bend towards the ground. There was so much rain falling from the sky that the already saturated ground forced thick waves of water to ooze across the sidewalks and into the rushing river that was beginning to edge away from the curb into the middle of the street.

She listened to the rain pounding against leaves and windows and watched the rain gutters on the neat houses overflow creating sheets of water that splashed on the waterlogged grass.

Her clothes were no longer just damp and her hair was glued to her face and neck. She looked around and was surprised to realize she had reached the alley behind her apartment. As she trudged towards her home, the water running down the center of the alley stopped to swirl around her ankles before continuing on its way. She walked around the side of the building and looked up at the second floor corner window. It was dark. Her cousin had not returned.

She began to fumble in her purse for her keys while trying to prevent the rain from actually getting inside. As she pulled the keys out with a small sigh of triumph, she heard someone call her name.

He walked up the front walk and stopped in front of her. His blue eyes looked down at her silently as he moved the wet strands of hair off her forehead. She let herself look up at him and they watched each other while the rain continued to fall around them.

After a moment, he put his arm around her shoulders and led her to his car. As they drove away, she looked back at the dark apartment.

Tomorrow the rain would be gone, leaving only a few puddles on the sidewalk. Tomorrow her life would change. Tonight, she would leave her tears in the rain.

She turned away from the dark windows and said goodbye.