Raindrops

I’ve been taking more silent steps recently... Maybe not silent.

A gentle roll of thunder rumbles across low hanging clouds, and I look up, squinting. Small droplets of rain streak from the sky and crest on the peak of my forehead, dampening my hair and face with each burst of impact.

I keep my chin held high and just inhale, sucking in a humid breath deep into my lungs as the tiny beats of droplets reverberate in tune against my skull. It’s warm out. Though the summer has seemed relatively less gruesome than usual, I welcome the afternoon storms. Something about them keeps me grounded. The city can’t move too quickly on slick streets. On days like these, drivers’ feet find the break more often than the pedal, grimacing through smeared, smearing windows. Maybe we’re all looking forward to the same kind of evening between the white striped lines of traffic, curled up on the couch next to someone you know or love or both, relinquishing your energy to a soft pillow below you and reveling in the background pitter patter before a screen.

            I squeeze my closed eyes tighter and stretch out my arms, pulling my hands apart even farther as if the more space I occupy and the more drops I collect, the more likely it is that each  impact might rinse away my thoughts, one by one.

In a way, it does.

I finally turn and start walking.

I like the sensation of walking in the rain. You can’t escape it. There’s no one else around. The watery bundles cascading down like shooting stars muffle any vocalizations that chance themselves an outlet in their usual form. White noise. And maybe it’s just that.

I keep walking until my shirt and shorts start to cling to my skin and my arms become slick with rain. Soon each strand of my hair is soaked through, and irregular streams of water trickle down the sides of my face, curling around my eyebrows, sliding down my cheekbones and pooling below my chin only to fall once again on my shirt or the ground below. I shiver as the exchanges of warmth on my soaked skin begin to seep a chill deeper into my core.

            I focus my gaze downward towards a grimy puddle cornering the sidewalk. STOMP. I smash my right foot right into the deepest part. Sediment splashes against the back of my leg and shins. I wiggle my toes and rinse my flip flop with the now murky mixture. I took allergy medicine today, thank goodness.

            I look up and quicken my pace back towards home. The insistent rain has pooled above the curb, silently sinking towards each drain. I take one look and step in up to my shins. I slosh through and notice the cool weight against my feet, my shins, delicately placing each step so as not to lose my shoes to the current. A neighbor opens their door to my right, curious to watch the rain dribbling by. To my left, a crowded drain disrupts the peace of the rain shower with the loud rush of water, torrents of fluid flowing by in force. Ahead, the water recedes and I find my way to the familiar sidewalk of my house. Squeaking steps echo a thoughtless melody as I meander to my back door. Grabbing the handle, I turn and push, welcoming the puff of dry air against my face as I look back. and the rain stops.