The bakery, this afternoon—I locked up the tables as it began to rain, and I realized it was the first time I’d felt rain on my face since…I don’t really remember.
The sunlit world is lovely enough. We get along most of the time.
But when it rains, the world and I are kindred spirits. We speak the same language for an hour, or a minute. However long that almost-downpour lasts.
Then it clears and, squinting into the sky’s halflit underbelly, I go back to being whatever it is I am. Except a bit better. And…wetter?
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