When it rains I look out the window, just to see the droplets stick to the glass and slide down, expanding as they move, like a disappearing snail.
When it rains I run outside in my t-shirt so I can get drenched to the skin, and I stand there shivering but laughing while the rain drops dissolve on my tongue and make me cough.
When it rains I lie in bed listening to it come pitter patter fast, slamming into the house sideways in a staccato beat that reminds me of icicles cracking off and slamming into the cold snow on the ground.
When it rains I crack open a new book and start reading from the beginning, cozy in my plush robe that only comes out when the moisture begins to gather in the clouds above.
When it rains I listen for the sound of a dog barking, afraid of the weather that comes along with some rain, anticipating the shock of the lightning and the boom of the thunder in the skies.
When it rains I call a friend and hope it’s raining where she is too, that she can feel the same thing I feel at the same time I feel it, and that she loves it as much as I do.
When it rains I imagine a flood running down the street and neighbors in boats navigating around floating cars and half-submerged houses, as if the first floors are wading knee-deep in water.
When it rains I sing a song, the same one that’s been playing in my mind before the floodgates open, and that releases its sound upon the world when the downpour comes.
When it rains I get wet.
Sam
Sam's Online Journal 