A Rainy Morning

Rain brings out a wistful coziness from somewhere deep within me.  It's such a wonderful feeling, but so hard to describe.  On Saturday we had rain, it was lovely and peaceful.  I decided to do a little writing about my morning.  I'm not totally sure what you'd call this because it isn't flash fiction.  Maybe Rapid Reality?  I don't know.  Tell me what you think of it!

My alarm goes off.  Phew, just a dream.  The blankets envelope me in a soft hug, the pillow kisses my cheek as I turn over in bed.  I have five minutes before my other alarm goes off, five more minutes of oh so precious sleep.  Alas, there’s too much needing to be done, even though my bed calls my name I must get up. 

I slip into the kitchen, my fuzzy socks making my footstep sound lightly throughout the small apartment.  I consider turning on the overhead light-nah, too bright.  Instead I attempt to turn on the tiny one above our oven.  Why won’t it work?  I tiptoe to the glass doors of our balcony.  I slide the blinds open as quietly as possible.  Murky light shines on my face.  Rain!  Watching it makes me think of London.  They always have rain there. 

Breakfast is silent.  I dress in soft, flowy clothing.  Shoes, hair, makeup. Lotion for my chapped hands.  A satisfied glance at the tall, pink-framed mirror. 

I settle down on the couch to wait for my ride.  I hold my beat-up Peter Pan script, trying to focus on the lines.  I imagine the way the other actor’s voices sound as they say their lines.  The rain is dancing on the roof.  I cannot tear my eyes from the mystery of it all.  Why is water falling from the sky?  Aren’t clouds strange?  They are tiny bits of water piled together, and floating.  How ironic is that? 

A knock sounds on the door.  I grab my things, wave to my sister and I run out the door.  The smell of *petrichor soaks into my skin, same as the raindrops on my clothes.  I climb in the backseat of the van.  I forget about the rain, the clouds, my quiet breakfast.  But later, when I’m alone, the serene scene will come back to me.  Making me long for moments past, when all was calm and still.  

*Petrichor is my new favorite word.  It's the smell of rain on dry earth.  

What do you think?  My Mom was out of town and Lolly and Willa were asleep, so the house was unusually quiet.  It was nice to be alone for a while.  Although I'm an extremely social person I love solitude every now and then.  It's just so relaxing.  

Love,
Pip

How do you feel about rain?

What are early mornings like for you?