some cool evening.

I woke to the sound of light rain falling, and as I opened my eyes in the darkness, I doubted my ears. I got off the bed some minutes later and saw rain spatters glistening on the window of the parked tricycle outside our room. I had another doubt whether to call it rain at all, as the wetness from the concrete outside was already fading like fragments of a dream. It was just one of those two minute rains, that fell before summer, and it was just going to make the night more humid. But still it would have been good to see the beginning of that rain fall, however fleeting it was. It would have been good to stare it for some few still moments. I got ready for work and left not trying to think about it.

Almost two hours later,on my break and as I was reading a recent text message, the rain came. It fell hard; shameless and inviting. Cold and so missed, like it hadn't fallen for eight years and I was a dry, cracked ground, eroding in the summer wind grain by grain. When I saw the rain dancing on the black asphalt streets I had to fight the urge to walk slowly somewhere where the rain fell the hardest and the coldest. I really wanted to. I would, if not for the circumstances of work and obligation. It was just a few minutes shy of a new day, and the darkness was only broken by the light coming from the lampposts and the orange and green fluorescents of a nearby 7-11.

I watched a few meters away from the downpour and as the wind picked up, some errant drops would shower on me and I smiled like a child. I watched and smiled until the rain ceased to be a rain and only its slickness and wetness remained shining on the asphalts and the marble floor of the entrance to the building I was working in.

I read your message again, and felt you falling inside me like rain. A long time coming. I have really missed the rain falling, along with me.