A weekly garbage take out escalates to a rush
the winds whipped about me, lightyl and gently, the temp def above freezing and yet they had that tinge of chillness to them which i greatly approve of.
and the rain was coming down, only one God was crying, it was light like a sprinkle but it was a bit more.
Im sorry to smile while others cry but it was too perfect, i strolled the can to the curb, then i wiped my drizzled face wiht a semi dry sleeve, just like i would in the bathroom, after splashing water on my face.
and it brought the same rush, a new feeling, a freshness that only the water can bring.
so i wiped my face then i stared up at the sky, knowing it should be dark but i can clearly see the shopping center over the trees and houses, illuminated by there mass of light, it was a light, like the sun falling from the sky, jsut without all the passion.
so i soaked up some of the sprinkles and i took off, not like a rocket but at a jog, and i went round the circle of house that encrusted our neighborhood
i didnt stop till i was on the straight away to my house and i didnt catch my breath, for it was always wiht me and it was mere seconds before i took off and ended at the house, locking the gate behind me.
every step i took echeod in the water puddles and evrything seemed so unreal, it was a silent night save my footsteps and the rain, nothing stirred, save for the mouse.
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