Waiting for the rain to come. The earth smells of it. Once there was that one perfect moment, precious, now vanished, yet remembered. They say i should be grateful to have had that once, yet i find myself ever-chasing… each year, a little less real, not much more than fragments, embellished by time. Dawn breaks red on the horizon. The breeze crawls in through an open window, tracing it’s way across skin. I close my eyes and remember. Cherishing the moment. Crossing the chasm of time. The rain begins to fall.
