Driving in the Rain

July 2, 2013
The raindrops hit the window in perfect unison, cascading down towards the crack in the window. Sometimes they would stop, but an invisible force would thrust them forward, giving no time for thought. Little drops jumped off the treetops and onto the front of the car, causing the window wipers to squeak in protest. I shifted my gaze away from the window and tried to focus on keeping my eyes on the road, which lay paved before me.

The new neighborhood lay untouched, inviting me to come explore its vast unknown barriers. An unfamiliar smell made its way into the car, getting lost amidst the cluttered boxes, avoiding becoming too comfortable in the jumbled surroundings. It smelled of fresh paint. I glanced to the right and saw it. The bright, yellow, lavish house arrayed with bright red lights. They entangled the house like great grape vines, and climbed up towards the banister.

I stopped my car and let the engine run for a minute, its hum mixing in with the drum roll of the raindrops. A little boy stepped out onto the porch of his house, his face a bright smile. He smelled the rain, color creeped into his pale white cheeks. The raindrops stained his khakis, but he didn’t seem to mind. His face spread out in a mischievous grin as he made his way to the white mailbox. The little “Windrose” bracelet shook on his wrist as he opened the mailbox. He bit his lip in anticipation and peered in.

His father came out onto the porch, gazing gently at his son, as any loving and responsible father would, the New York Times tucked promptly under his arm. The boy retrieved the content in the mailbox, his face bright as if it was his birthday. Judging from the size of the bundle, it was probably a present from a caring grandmother, who did everything to please her precious grandchild. The boy turned to his father, his mouth forming into the shape of childish satisfaction.

The house stood in silence behind the father and son. Great white columns guarded the entrance to the house, shinning and sparkling as the sun’s timid rays emerged from the clouds. Tires screeched in the driveway as a lavish white Ford pulled into the wet driveway. A young blond woman sprang out, her hair bouncing excitedly behind her. She reminded me of an older version of my sister I left home. This might have been from the way the light fell on her.

I checked the dashboard. It was time to move on. This neighborhood was nice, but I had to keep going. The sound of laughter reached me as I was pulling away. The happy family sauntered into the house, their happiness hanging in the air minutes after they had gone into the house. I sighed. Happy families only exist in fairytales. This family might have been close to perfection, but I swear that girl was the one I found in my husband’s bed two days prior to this. But this was the past, and there was no point in digging it up. I put the car in drive and sped away towards the shimmering rainbow in the distance.

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