It was raining and
dark and I didn't want to go home. I dropped everyone off and raced through the wet streets to pass the time, not really knowing where to end up, following the
music from inside my little
bubble. I passed by a park from my
childhood along the river.
Grandma used to take me there to see the boats and the big waterfall that smelled like
fresh rain. I pulled into the
parking lot, passing the steamed up windows of the few other cars strewn about the space.
The engine sighed to a halt. Silence, rain pounding, distant thunder, soft breathing. I got out and ran to the river under the cover of darkness. Carefully I chose a patch of wet grass (only slightly less wet than the air) and sat down. The water soaked through my clothes, my hair, my thoughts. Lightning lit up the air around me and showed the treetops on the other side of the water; another land but really not so far off. A small family of geese clucked their way through the rain towards me. Did they even see me? No, no, they almost touched my legs they were so close. Slowly they groomed themselves and moved on.
I don't know if I will ever go back. Perhaps when things are completely different it will be allowed. Maybe never. I don't know.