She continued to walk. Allowing her shadows to dance before her in the light of the street lamps. Her thoughts danced with them erratically. No rhyme or reason to their steps, but rather an unorganized circle. She watched her shadows converging and reassembling into one as she passed under each spotlight streaming it’s golden warmth on the cool sidewalk. It was a metaphore for how she felt. Beside herself one moment and fully whole the next. Like each moment differed so vastly so from the next. Determining her emotions, dictating them to her dependent only on whether she was beside herself, or had it all together.

Tonight was complicated. 

Her footsteps fell heavily as she continued to walk. She wondered If they fell heavily enough to cause cracks in the cement beneath her feet. She felt oddly responsible for the crevasses she could notice in the shadows. But she felt oodly responsible for many damaged things. Even if she was never the one to damage them.

It began to rain. The waters pooled in the shallow concave parts of the cement. Filling in those cracks. Encouraging the grass to grow between those broken fragments. A kind of healing. The crack would always be present, but the would would be healed. Something would grow from that broken place. Something fresh and green and new, tender at first, but perhaps it would one day be a tree that brok through that sidewalk and reached so passionately for the sky.

She stopped beneath a street lamp. She looked upward, and closed her eyes. She did not need to see the rain fall. She only wished to hear it. To feel it. To give up her eyes so her other senses could see more clearly. She had once been told God was in the rain. She didn’t know if she believed that, but she felt closer to Him. Like He was reaching down to kiss her as each drop touched her skin. “Like a thousand little kisses,” she whispered.


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