I recall watching the rain pouring down hitting the ground violently. I watched the storm clouds rustle throughout the sky. I sat there on the window seat with my chin resting on my hands. I was so close to the window could feel the coldness seep through. Though my home was warm with the smell of hot coffee from earlier this morning, if I leaned towards to window and breathed out the window fogged up.
Slowly but surely the rain stopped and the sun started to peak through the dark clouds. I begged my mother to let me go outside, she put on my goulashes and raincoat and walked with me outside. The air tasted damp and still and the air smelled like pine needles. She held my hand as I walked down the slippery wooden stars. Once I got to the bottom I bolted for the biggest puddle. I lightly kicked my feet with every little step I took than looked around and leaped in the air smashing my feet in the puddle. I laughed knowing I got the red mud all over me and my clothes. I felt the mud splatter on my face and in my hair. But I didn’t care, because I was having the time of my life in the simplest place, a puddle.