The rains returned this weekend, and I walked home yesterday in Saturday night's dress with my umbrella and unseaworthy shoes feeling the spiked hands of summer retreating from my muscles. The sidewalks were covered in a layer of wind-tossed debris and the last of the fruit from the bushes and trees, everything all sticky and sweet and slippery. I have missed the taste of this air.
Not too long before the rains left for the season I walked down that same street listening to a song about missing bullets when something snapped and a burden that I had been carrying lifted for a moment unexpectedly. Everything was in its usual state of turmoil and I was keeping secrets and waiting impatiently and seeing signs and omens everywhere, and the sudden break was such a nice surprise that I ran all the way home, all elbows and knees, thinking that I had just realized how closely I had escaped what had been haunting me.
Of course nothing is ever that simple, or that obvious, and what I had been waiting for for all of those months showed up just after I gave up waiting for it, since as usual the universe is much smarter than I am. It seems that generally there's no way out but through, and if I could I would bottle up this air just now for whenever things might go dismal again. It isn't as though I've stopped seeing signs and omens everywhere, just that they are all happier ones, painting my walls with nothing but air. For now the best-case scenario is simply what is.
Not too long before the rains left for the season I walked down that same street listening to a song about missing bullets when something snapped and a burden that I had been carrying lifted for a moment unexpectedly. Everything was in its usual state of turmoil and I was keeping secrets and waiting impatiently and seeing signs and omens everywhere, and the sudden break was such a nice surprise that I ran all the way home, all elbows and knees, thinking that I had just realized how closely I had escaped what had been haunting me.
Of course nothing is ever that simple, or that obvious, and what I had been waiting for for all of those months showed up just after I gave up waiting for it, since as usual the universe is much smarter than I am. It seems that generally there's no way out but through, and if I could I would bottle up this air just now for whenever things might go dismal again. It isn't as though I've stopped seeing signs and omens everywhere, just that they are all happier ones, painting my walls with nothing but air. For now the best-case scenario is simply what is.
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