Parade Raining

Do you ever come across a piece that you wrote a long time ago which you immediately fall back in love with?
I happened upon the following piece (written in 2008) buried in the deep, dark recesses of an old writing folder along with 5 accompanying sketches and I felt like sharing, because I really like it/ them.
Without further introduction… enjoy a previously unposted snapshot of my literary past.

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Parade Raining

01The rain came down. Dancing in the pale, yellow sodium street light, the distinct drops painted streaks of refraction on the patchy black backdrop of an overcast night sky. Every drop of refreshing precipitate that gently struck my upturned face exploded in a tiny blossom of chilled peacefulness. Each collision a distinct, blissful experience.

Alone they landed, but together, they melded into a flowing body, caressing my cheeks and brow, cascading through my hair and over my chin, down my neck and over my pale, bare chest. The flow would then either drip off my finger tips, each drop leaving a gentle kiss as it let go, or it would soak into the waist of my jeans, for a longer, yet still inevitable, trip to join the puddle around my naked feet.

I curled my toes. The mud that squished between them sent a sensual, relaxing wave up my body.02

The mortgage fell away.

I took a deep breath of the cool, saturated air. The tangy smell of sopping autumn helped drop my shoulders back.

The fact that I needed to dump another unbelievably large sum of cash into that over-regulated hunk of steel and pistons faded into a position in which it no longer mattered.

A smile curled over my lips as the tranquil roar of the falling drops filled my head. I turned my sensitive palms outward and raised my arms from my sides. As I did so, the tie that had been loosely held in my left hand slipped through my fingers to rest on top of the discarded shirt that soaked up mud.

My fear about the wife I may or may not still love leaving me and taking the dog I still haven’t trained not to crap on the floor, paled until not even a hint of the anger, the fear, or the question lurked in my mind.

As my hands reach03ed a forty five degree angle, the fragrant, chill breeze nuzzled its way up and enveloped my body and outstretched limbs.

It failed to matter that I had just stormed out of a meeting with the board that now viewed me as a joker and a clown. Like a sand castle melting into the ocean, the seeming importance of their comments disappeared.

Total bliss and happiness set in.

I closed my eyes, and smiled into the rain.

The rain.
The ecstasy.
Bathing in the rain and the street light.
Not only was everything going to be okay, everything was okay. No, not okay; everything was perfect…


I was jarred into a state of confusion as the rain suddenly stopped. No, not stopped; I could still hear it but couldn’t feel it. I opened my eyes to see an umbrella held over me by a tall dark figure. The ambient light reflected from the shiny ground illuminated a bone pale face looking down at me, dark eyes remaining in shadow. The white face seemed to glow faintly in the black surroundings of a hood.

Still staring into the seemingly missing eyes, I opened my mouth to speak in protest, but my throat was suddenly dry and refused to utter a sound.

He spoke in a deep rumble, “Come. You’ll catch your death playing in the rain like this.”