blogwaffe

I pick myself off the floor of the living room deciding to try and do the last problem from the set I’m working on in the morning before class. I hadn’t eaten any sweets in O(weeks), and the one milkshake I drank really destroyed my ability to concentrate (note to self: maintain daily sugar intake at the one dozen Krispy Kreme equivalent level from now on). I poke around on the internet a bit and fastidiously avoid updating the ‘waffe. Calling it an early night (1am), I go to my bedroom, shut the door, undress and get in bed next to the pile of clothes I still haven’t put away after doing laundry a few days ago. I bless my Queen Size bed.

The window by my ear is open, and I hear the rain lashing the pane and sounding off the roofs, the wall of the next door parking garage, the balconies, the trees. I think of forests, of parks, mud puddles, and grey skies. Of wet days on wet beaches, tin roofs and wrinkled papers. Flower petals in a stream. Overwrought descriptions.

I close the window but for a crack and dream the rain.