Raindrops

By , hartland, VT
Rain drips down the window, obscuring my view so that I cannot clearly make out the cars making their way down the road. I am calm, and I secretly route for those raindrops as they run down, egging them on, making them fall faster.

This is the way that I am forced to spend my Saturday afternoon.

I want to go outside, run around in the rain, lay myself in it, and wander in it. I just want to let myself go, and go somewhere else in the middle of this wonderful weather. No one else is enjoying it, but I don’t care. There is something too strange about the sun being out all of the time, almost as if it is trying to make this earth perfect, when it really never can be.

But I cannot let myself go.

Not in this world, not in this lifetime. There are too many restrictions, too many ways that I have to be, rules that I have to live by. Everyone has their way of competition, and by being seen doing that, I will come in last place.

Just like that raindrop, the one that didn’t hit the windowsill first. No one wants to be a loser, no one wants to be last.

And my frail amount of popularity is nothing that I can break.

So I just look at those raindrops on my window, and I route for the one in last place.





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