Late spring rain
And then another,
Before you know it, there are puddles everywhere. The large drops keep falling from above and splashing heavily on the pavement. The puddles look as if they are boiling. I don’t have an umbrella, but then again I’ve never owned one – just an additional burden to lug around, a portable lightning-rod, an inconvenient sail. I am already drenched, there’s no need to run – I keep walking slowly, water draining from my hair onto my face, and slowly creeping under my headphones. I can’t hear the thunder – my music is playing too loudly – but I see the lightning bolts above the city. I play a game – step in every puddle on the way. Everyone else is running hastily, looking at the ground, trying to avoid the growing pools of water and to keep the raindrops out of their eyes. Silly – they are already as wet as they could possibly get! Stop! Look up! Spread your arms, enjoy the big soft drops! Give the clouds a smile, open your mouth and taste the rain! Feel the water creep down your back, under your clothes, tickling you in funny places, like a lover’s touch – intimate, gentle, sneaky… I take off my headphones – I want to hear the rain; uniform, liquid white noise, occasionaly torn by a passing thunder. Tiny white blossoms shed from the plum and cherry trees scattered unevenly along the way. Drifting with the flurry, the fluttering petals savour of roses, fruits and an almost unintelligible bouquet of jasmine and bitter almonds. I inhale deeply. The fresh, cool, humid air fills my chest, my senses, my mind. I exhale with a shiver, as if I had been crying. I feel relieved. There must have been some burden on my shoulders that has now lifted. I don’t know what it is, but I feel light as a feather, fresh as a dew-drop. I walk away, smiling. I am not thinking about anything – just feeling everything.
And you look at me, walking away, as I become smaller and smaller, until I am gone in the mist. You don’t know me. And I don’t know you. But I made you smile!