The danger called rain.

“Oh no it’s raining, go inside!” people, people are screaming around me.

“Really? Really inside?” telling, saying to myself.

Then I would miss, miss the theater happening around me. This tickling, tingling of my senses, each time a droplet, small droplet falls on to my head.

“Pu pi pe pu pup” sounds, sounds are enclosing me from all directions, as if, as if everywhere around whispering: ”stay, stay just for a bit longer.”

There is really nobody, nobody here! Everyone went inside under the man made umbrellas, hiding from this precious, fleeding moment.

Its just me and the rain. Me and the rain.

A challenge, a cold feeling creeping among my fingers. Stealing, hijacking all my attention to the wet jacket sleeves.

In that moment the mesmerizing, hypnotizing dance of sound and touch, is inviting me, calling me to forget about it for a while longer.

(Especially when you haven’t been touched by anyone else a loong time.)

You go under, beneath the roof to catch the moment, catch it, and hear how the roof, stiff roof is fighting the rain with loud sounds.

You march, you march back into the hands of weather, and you are welcomed, welcomed by a slap, wet slap right into your face.

The moment you open your eyes, you open them and feel the familiarity of experience. As if, as if you know each other for a long time.

Just you, you and the droplets rejuvenating everything, everything around you.

Do you really, do you really want to run from this?

Unless there is another Chernobyl then go the fuck inside you moron.

Other then that measure body temperature, wear a proper cloak and enjoy the moment.


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