Raining again. Well, I suppose it's not unusual, raining for three days in a row, but, hell, it always throws me off. It's like, after wearing socks for a while, taking them off, mixing them up, and putting them on the wrong feet. No, that is wrong, won't do at all.
But this rain. I'm sitting outside in it now, legs crossed, watching the drops spiral up into the clouds. The drops try to catch the grey light and make it dance this embarrassing little dance but it just—no, stop it. That's quite enough.
As I sit, watching this curious display, I notice that between the drops I can see clearly. Huh. It's like they've each got their own gravity, distorting the things around them into focus. Yeah, things haven't been this clear in a long time. It's nice, a gravitational cleanse. But I know that this one sublime alignment is fleeting, and I'm sad to see it go. Soon, I'll run out of breath and have to follow those drops up, but now.
Now there's a disturbance in the top of the sky. The clouds break momentarily and, glittering, the downpour begins anew. Well. Amid this new swirling torrent one cloud begins to define itself against the rest. It reaches down to the ground, down to me. Fascinated, I watch it form in front of me, taking the shape of a mushroom cloud outlined starkly against the scintillating coils and edies behind it. Has our war with the sky begun already? Oh dear, look at the time...
For one gravity-defying moment, the cloud hangs there in front of me in chaotic equilibrium, its shadows boiling and churning and swirling with their own kind of internal logic. This can't last.
It doesn't. The cloud begins receding and so do I. I follow its vertical wake, back upward into the cloud cover. It reforms as I follow it, turning into an umbrella, and I suddenly think that I'd like nothing better than to be dry. The cloud, now at the top of the sky, is almost gone, and I, too, with it. Almost there, I kick, covering the last few inches. I reach up and my hand breaks the surface. I grasp the side molding, hauling myself up. Toweling off, I'm thankful it's not raining. Still, I look back at the water, still rippling, and start to think what if—
Smiling faintly, I leap.
Raining again.
Questioned by my fears by yyelsel_ann (source image)
Celestial Knight by shoofle
