crawl932

How did we turn rain into its antithesis?

Made it gloomy, foreboding, once-upon-a-stormy-night ominous?

Rain is fresh and soothing, magical. Putting 

its ardor back into the barren and sun-baked ground.

    Driving. The radio is playing a song, the words I remember but the notes I’ve forgotten. Someone is standing on the median. As we get closer, he gets larger and I can see his face. It is dirty. He looks at me. His eyes are vacant.