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Keep Art Alive :: “Rain Girl” :: Art by Sabra

Broken windows in empty hallways,
a pale dead moon in a sky,
streaked with gray.
Human kindness,
is overflowing,
and I think it’s goin’ to rain today.”

The first rain came as a surprise to Rae, all grey clouds and damp air, condensation marring her view out the window in the morning instead of the typical layer of grit and grime. She had not realized how much she had missed it, the feeling of water falling from the sky, the sound of rain drip dropping on glass, the way it felt to dance around in it, to feel soaked to the bone. Rae was considering running out in it just as she was, in nothing but a worn out tee shirt and bare feet, when she saw Laney in it, spinning, tripping, falling, waving her arms and wailing in all that wet. The sight of it, of her, stopped Rae; all she could do was stay still and stare.

Laney was part apparition, part angel, and part everything Rae wanted in ways she could not articulate. She could feel the trickle of desire dance just under her skin, the beads of sweat pool at the nape of her neck, the tight squeeze of need in the pit of her stomach, and the wet, like the rain, between her shaking legs. Then the world shook, bellowing, thunderous sound that for a split second moment Rae thought was her heart bursting out of her chest. It was followed by a streak of light in the sky that was reminiscent of the Fourth of July. It startled both of them, Rae and Laney, and at that moment of shocks and sparks their eyes met.

One-two-three-four-five-six and then crash again, Rae felt older and younger all at once, as she watched Laney walk towards the window just as the sky lit up again. Laney smiled, cheshire wide and wild, there was something in her eyes that was not quite right but Rae did not want to see it, did not want to wonder, or worry, she just wanted to want. She opened the window up, struggling as the rusty levers fought to stay stagnent and still, but winning in the end.

Can I come in?” Laney asked, her voice sing-song and as shaky as Rae’s limbs felt, “it’s kind of wet out here.”

Rae laughed, or at least she thought to laugh, the sound from her lips was more like air leaked from an old bicycle tire, breathy, with a little whistle underneath.

Yeah, um, I mean, yes the rain is wet today…you can…come…wait…I’ll go open the door.”

 

I Think It’s Gonna Rain Today :: Dusty Springfield

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