It’s just another rainy Tuesday.
I’m wearing my favorite scarlet orange sweater.
The one with the blue ink stain on the left-hand sleeve.
I rolled the bottom of my jeans up
so they wouldn’t drag through the puddles.
There is a light drizzle of rain,
it’s covering the ground.
Feeling tiny drops hitting the top of my head,
making my hair fall under the weight of the water.
In every building, there’s a faint smell of rain
and everyone can feel the humidity on their clothes.
The lights seem a little too bright
and the spirits in the room are a little less vibrant.
When I walk on the tile there’s the small squeak
of wet tennis shoes.
The hallways are dark with the shadows of the clouds outside.
And my eyes just aren’t adjusting.
My fingers are cold but my body feels warm.
There’s a distance between my head and my actions.
And the soft sound of the rain hitting the tin roof
puts me in a trance that only leads to a deep sleep.
The stuffy air feels calm,
even though the air outside is churning.
It’s like the world became still enough
to watch the thunderstorm roll by.
My scarlet orange sweater keeps my body
from going numb as I begin to walk through the rain.
The tips of my shoes are wet, and my socks are slightly damp.
I know the old textbooks in my bag are going to have
water damage and their smell of antiquity will increase.
The sound of cars rushing by, splashing through puddles
that were previously undisturbed lures me towards the road.
I see the reflection of my scarlet sweater in a
puddle as the ripples begin to settle.
A flash of light stretches across the sky for less than a second.
Followed by a deep rumbling that seems to surround the sky.
The light pitter-patter starts to become a constant rhythm
that blocks out the significance of any other sound.
By the time I step under my porch my sweater is drenched
and my shoes are water logged.
In my room, I peel off my scarlet sweater and set it on the chair to dry, along with my socks and shoes.
I throw on a t-shirt and sweatpants and pull my hair into a bun.
And look through my window as the rain blurs all the shapes together.
The thunder is growing louder and louder as the minutes pass.
And the lightning seems to be brighter.
As I crawl into my bed I’m reminded,
It’s just another rainy Tuesday.