lured by the middle-of-the-night sound of rain, i put on a coat and scarf over my pajamas to brave the cold outside.
i sat down and stared blankly at the shiny wet street from my second floor balcony. i thought: “it’s bejeweled by puddles, glowing orange and pink from the yellow street light.”
shivering, i tried to “be in the moment.” i smoked a cigarette. i tried to feel alive. i focused on the numbing sensation in my fingertips. i breathed in deeply to see if i could smell the rain. (smelled a little like soap.) i tried to imagine that i would remember this moment 10 years from now. (but realized i probably won’t.) (and even if I did, why would it matter?) so I proceeded to feel empty and lonely and insignificant —like i was all alone in the universe. (until a car swooshed by.)