The rain falling down past our balcony has always fascinated me. The sounds, the smell, the sheer oddity of being outside during a rainstorm, safe from every drop. Anytime it would rain, I would go out and sit. Maybe I’d take a coffee, maybe a tall glass of sparkling water, sometimes just alone with only my thoughts to quench my soul. She’d sometimes come out too. We’d sit together in silence- or our voices were silent. We were surrounded by a symphony that long predates us or even our species or the island we’re on. 

One day in late summer a sunny Saturday had turned into a solid storm that sat atop the city for a few hours. It seemed to have lost its way across the island and decided to stay here until it decided somewhere better to go. We were being lazy, which was rather typical for us on those sort of days. The rain was the convenient excuse to stay within the confines of our nest- though any excuse would have done. Too hot, too cold, too rainy, too outside. Our weekends were often like this- to the point I worried she was hiding a mild case of agoraphobia. 

On this day, as the rain had settled into a steady pour, I excused myself to sit on the balcony under the grey sky. I watched the tendrils fall from the crevasse and levels of the building, and I admired the way the tree leaves dance in the bombardment. Down below I saw pedestrians with umbrellas and some without, a few walking with dignified abandon, most with furious jogs to dry spaces. 

She brought out two coffees, warm and black for her, iced and black for me. She sat down at our little wooden table with matching chairs that I had pulled away from the edge to keep our small collection of miniature cacti from drowning in the downpour. She looked at me and slid me the glass without a word. She settled into her chair as best she could against the hardwood and looked out. She was wearing her glasses- she must have been reading inside, they fogged when she brought her coffee cup to her face. 

The steady drone of the rain was broken with her sigh. “I’m not sure” she said cryptically, not facing me, instead her gaze was locked on the rain beyond our little sanctuary. “I just,” she paused, not sure. 

“About what?”

“All this..” she waved her hand showing ‘all this’ was directed at the world beyond. “”All this shit. Humanity, man, our civilization-if it’s even still worthy of that term. Or..” she trailed off, “Or I’ve been misusing that world for awhile now.” 

“What makes you say that?”

“I was reading the news. It’s all so bleak, relentlessly so. I know it’s the way they sell ads and fund their sites but fuck man. Just all of it, everyday. So many solvable problems left not only not solved but,” she sighed.


“Exactly. Ignored.” 

“Maybe it’s the rain.” 

“Na I like the rain. It’s comforting,” adding after a beat, “calming.”

“The trees like it too I’m sure.” 

She grunted and nodded. 

“Let’s stay in today, I’m not sure I can deal with the world’s bullshit today.” 

I laughed, “Na, I really wanted to go out in this.” sarcasm dripping from my lips, I gestured to further my point. 

“Sorry to deprive you.” 

“No worries,” I laughed exhaustedly. “Just make another pot of coffee and we’ll call it even.” 

She smiled and shook her head. And the sounds of the rain washed over us. 

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