Rain, Rain, Come Today

The chill in the air bit into my cheeks as I walked to my car this morning, twirling my keys like a gunslinger twirls his pistols. I wore shorts because I didn't want to dig my long pants out, I had an easier time just picking them off the floor, and the hairs on my legs had raised with goospimples. The air smelled crisp this morning. I hoped it was the smell of rain.

I parked in the lot at work and waited in my car until the time the door would be unlocked for me. I tuned the radio to NPR and heard about oil prices being raised to over $50 a barrel, a record breaker. Out the windshield, I watched the moon shining off to the east in it's fullness, making the parking lot look even more mysterious. Wind blew thin, wispy clouds in front of the moon.

I closed my eyes and listened to the news--hurricanes, hostages, hotel bombings--and the wind whipping the thin branches of the tiny tree I had parked next to. Off in the distance I heard the yowls of cats, each wanting to scare the other off to avoid a fight. My head dipped forward.

I opened my eyes, couldn't fall asleep that close to work time. Sleep would do me no good. News repeated itself and gave commercials for shows coming on later in the day.

Finally, the clock showed that I should get out of the car, so I did. As I walked toward the door, I looked at the moon, at least where it should have been. There was only a round, blurry splotch of light shining through the clouds. Wonderful. The wind blew and I smelled the crispness again.

Hours later, I looked out the front windows of the store to the right, to the east and saw the sun.

"Damn," I said.

"What?" asked GWKMA.

"The sun's coming up."

"What's wrong with that?"

"I was hoping for rain, that's all."