A Stumble In The Rain
It’s pouring outside. The exact opposite of what I really need at the moment. Of course, I love rain. I love playing in it, listening to it, smelling that dusty wet concrete smell it gives off. However, rain is not the thing that will keep other things dry.
All I want to do right now is cry. Not some cliche cry scene in a movie where she just got broken up with, and she has no way home but by foot, although you could have sworn she got there in her car. No, this is the type of crying where my whole body wants to shut down, and I just want everything to go back to when I didn’t have to have adult responsibilities. And I just can’t help it, so my anxious tears dribble out as I stand underneath the cover of a bookstore patio, new books in hand.
Checking the time, I see that it’s 8:27. I didn’t think I would have stayed out this late. Sometimes I just get into the zone when I read, and I don’t realize that I’m not in the little worlds of Malakai and Bethany, or Isreale and Dylan.
I feel pathetic. Like a child crying out of frustration because of something they can’t control. This is something I have complete control over, though. I have the remote in my hand, and the buttons are all under my thumb.
The best decision at the moment seems to be hiding the books under my jacket. I’m still afraid that they’ll get wet, though.
Just as I’m about to take the risk, someone taps my shoulder. I turn to see Oscar standing before me. He’s smiling, like he can’t see the tears streaming down my cheeks.
“Oscar Gray, so nice to see you on this lovely day,” I smile back at him, leaving a trace of sarcasm in my voice.
“The same to you, Ms. Vanelope,” He says, although I wish he didn’t. He knows how I identify, I’ve told him so many times before. Some people, I guess, just don’t understand it sometimes.
“Are you here alone?” He asks, tilting his head.
“Yeah, but I was just--”
“Here, I can take those for you.” He reaches to my books, wrapped in the plastic bag with the store’s logo on it. I step away, giving him what I think is a look of back off. Or at least I hope it is. He drops his hand, giving me a half frown.
“Thanks, but I was just going to my car.” I shove my books into my jacket and take my first stride into the rain, making a mental note to leave a couple of jars out for collection.
I glance back at Oscar, and he looks solemn. Like I just told him to piss off. Which I did, technically. Though he may not know that entirely.
//Based on the song "Walking In The Rain To A Cafe To Write Down Private Thoughts In Public," by City Girl//
