Okay this is something entirely different. I am not going to explain what I attempted unless asked because someone is extremely curious, but I do want input, so please share your thoughts.
The wind’s scent changed the other day. Like a towel fresh out of the dryer, the scent held a fresh exciting smell. It had changed back then too. I was sleeping the sleep of the bored, and I did not notice at all. That time it changed into something dark and unforgiving, like the onset of a storm.
Now I view the events as a viewer would like some old movie on the television. I can cry at the sad parts. At that time, though, it was dark and pain-filled; an illness late at night on the bathroom floor when you cry for help, but no one is home to reach out to you, with a washrag and glass of water.
Looking back, how strange that something so benign could turn so terrifying? When the walls of your house tumble down, it makes you wonder about the quality of the materials you built it with.
The scars, the pain, and the wounds are all necessary to live, but did I realize that? Not at that time, I couldn’t understand. I stared at the leaden sky waiting for one lone raindrop to extinguish me, begged for it really, if I am to tell the truth.
Now I know that raindrop was life giving. Dry earth needs rain doesn’t it? Flowers bloom now where before lay hard untended soil. The changing seasons have nurtured the soil, giving it possibility once more.