Rain Rain

I remember back in Secondary School, when I used to frequent long(ish) walks home alone, I would look forward to rainy days. Trudging home in anything from a light drizzle to an outright downpour, I used to enjoy the sensation of being soaked to the skin and not having a care in the world. I never understood what drew me to such foolishness, and only now realise it is a slight wonder that I never suffered from anything worse than a ticking off from my mother for drenched uniforms. I never understood that, though. Wouldn't it help with the washing?

Walking home in the rain today reminded me of days gone by. The tap-tapping of the sky's tears on your shoulder, like a long-lost friend, accompanying you as you put one foot before the other on the way to wherever you call home. Getting drenched, in clothes already damp and chilled with the memory of another, refreshes you, reminds you. Forces you to think.

Watching someone walk away in the rain can sometimes be the hardest thing in the world.