IT’S RAINING.
The kind of rain that comes down so heavy it sounds like the shower’s running, even when you’ve turned itoff. The kind of rain that makes you think of dams and flash floods, arks. The kind of rain that tells you tocrawl back into bed, where the sheets haven’t lost your body heat, to pretend that the clock is five minutesearlier than it really is.
Ask any kid who’s made it past fourth grade and they can tell you: water never stops moving. Rain falls, andruns down a mountain into a river. The river finds it way to the ocean. It evaporates, like a soul, into theclouds. And then, like everything else, it starts all over again.
The kind of rain that comes down so heavy it sounds like the shower’s running, even when you’ve turned itoff. The kind of rain that makes you think of dams and flash floods, arks. The kind of rain that tells you tocrawl back into bed, where the sheets haven’t lost your body heat, to pretend that the clock is five minutesearlier than it really is.
Ask any kid who’s made it past fourth grade and they can tell you: water never stops moving. Rain falls, andruns down a mountain into a river. The river finds it way to the ocean. It evaporates, like a soul, into theclouds. And then, like everything else, it starts all over again.