Saturday, May 16, 2009


I can hear the raindrops but they don’t bother me. I can feel the sprinkles as they soak into my sweater. They come yet I have no umbrella to stop them. A puddle sits in the middle of the road. I step in it. The water soaks into the leather of my sole then leads into the even softer leather above it. My laces can’t protect me no matter how tight I tie them. My woolen sock cannot wick and my skin surely cannot protect the coldness that is to hit it. My toes curl; the soggy wool squishes between my toes. It’s raining outside and I just stepped into a puddle. Could it have been avoided? Could I have walked in front of the car instead? I can imagine the sight of a shoe – or even two – flying through the air only to land on the sidewalk. A kid might pick it up or maybe a dog might sniff it. Good thing I put some deodorant on this morning. Otherwise, all of this could’ve turned quite afoul. Smelly rain, oh smelly rain – who has won this silly game?

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