• And the rain fell upon the earth in a mighty deluge

    Staring up at a cloud covered sky; my heart sank deeper into my chest. To my broken self it seemed that even nature itself wanted to put up constant reminders of the interminable solitude that surrounded me. Under normal circumstances, these thoughts would not have come to my mind but with every way I look pointing in a more secluded and more morose outcome I find myself ebbing like the daily tides.

    It fell for forty days and forty nights

    I sat on the window seat staring out across the yard through the falling sheets of pelting rain, my head laying against the cool glass, breath sending wispy shards across the surface of the glass just beneath my nose. In one sigh the entire field of my vision went white and I didn’t move to wipe the surface clear, but instead closed my eyes and listened to the rainfall upon the roof above my head.

    Water water everywhere and not a drop to drink.

    The days dragged on, seemingly endless torrents of water drowning the landscape, both providing life and taking it. Again I sat at the window seat, and again I stared through the pelting rain trying to see something better than the lifeless gray above and the ripples of water hitting water below. It was in these moments of deep depression that I found myself as an alien species; something so queer and unfamiliar to my own experience that at first it seemed surreally fake. It came all too soon that this was not a dream, not a reflection in a magic glass that held whoever stared into it in captivation. No! This is what I had become and all over what? A little rain?