...to keeping my head in the clouds

A place for me to express myself through muses and images.

Pitter-Patter

Rain struck the metal roof like music meant to soothe soul.

“What are you doing?” she asked, without taking her eyes off her romance book.

Walking to the window, he says, “Nothing, just bored.” Drawing back the heavy drapes, he places his hand against the icy glass.

“How is it?”

Fat drops bounce off the windowsill before falling twelve feet to the ground below. “It’s pouring.” Like she couldn’t tell.

Squinting through the rain, he tries to see the hedge that leads to the parking lot; the lawn that surrounds the children’s park, which yesterday was full of spring blooms.

Out of the shroud comes the figure of a woman, walking with deliberate steps, oblivious to the weather. A red dress shows off her pale legs. Ringlets of dark blond hair fan out, slicing through rain drops, as she spins around. For just a moment, he glimpses her face: unabashed ecstasy.

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