This is the time of the year when evenings mean getting on your rooftop and looking sea ward for the rain(considering you are a dreamer). The rain-clouds would arrive in packets and then grow into a nebular mass of grey, just like you imagined. The sky would radiate electric branches everywhere around you. The occasional blue light would pique your loneliness and help you to look into the obscenities of your semi-dark surroundings. The rain would start soon, tip-top, like the rain. You would decay with the rain and flow through great drains, canals and rivers, following the tedious voyage of natural processes. And then one fine day a part of you, the best of you, will become a cloud-a nimbus and come rain over her place. If you are lucky she might be on the roof that day, waiting to get drenched. (She is the dreamy type too, you know.) Well thats all you can do, rain over and over again. So you see, if you dont get to touch her in this life, invent a way to do so- like that word-pecker who dissolved in the rain.
Posted on: Sat, 26 Apr 2014 10:48:15 +0000