it is raining again.
it is 1830hrs.
the sky is a liquid gray - like an upturned sea.
the vapours of the city combined with the minute liquid droplets in the air have formed some kind of haze.
like some kind of cataract I have suddenly developed...
so thick that I can feel it moving against me when I walk.
through this haze I see someone coming towards me.
indistinct yet familiar.
it is the neighborhood kid in a transparent pink raincoat.
we both give each other a quiet stare as we pass...
the haze a thin curtain between us.
I turn right and come to the wide road.
It is clean and shiny, reflecting the newly lit mercury vapour lamps.
The rain always makes me feel lonely, yet distinctly a part of this world.
I appear to slow down as the world passes by.
Then I think how lucky I am.
I have time.
Time to observe and to enjoy.
Look at the frog emerge from one side of the road and wait till it hops it's way to the other side.
Wait at the bus stop and see the different people in the brightly light windows.
All staring with unseeing eyes into a different world. home maybe?
I walk on.
It is still raining.
I come to a broken down stone bench and I remember her.
I turn around and start walking back to the world I belong.
The rain has stopped.
All that remains are the big drops under the trees.
For no apparent reason the frog is again crossing the road.
...
...