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Thursday, March 5, 2015

Rainy Day

I'm sitting in the sunroom. Eating leftover onion rings and "Chicken Something" from Sports Page. I have two containers of "onion ring sauce" and some honey mustard. And my coca cola glass has ice water in it. There's a misty light pouring softly through the windows. The kind of light you can't see but yet it's there. I hear the frogs croaking already on the sewer drain trail, just over the creek. And it's raining. Ever so softly- it's drops making a hushed patter on the sunroom's flat roof. Calm. Beautiful.   
I should go take a rainy walk in the woods. To my own little mountain where I'll sit on some wet leaves and look out over the creek, the trail, and part of a new development. 


The rain is getting louder. So is my head. It still hasn't overpowered the frogs. I blow my nose. Maybe this is why my head hurts. Maybe....but not really. 

Water runs down my glass cup, and at the same time a droplet races it down a tree. The skies open up and the rain pours. I can't hear the frogs anymore. 
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5 comments:

  1. So beautifully written, Theresa! There's something poetic and melancholy in the way you wrote this post! Beautiful.

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  2. So stunning!! Very calm, peaceful. And am I detecting some Indian flashbacks?? 😉

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    Replies
    1. haha! Thank you, and no/yes, I was going through my sock bin and I found my braid whatchamacallits and so I wore them that day :P

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