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| Friday, April 08, 2005 |
| Running Home in the Rain |
It started raining around 10 last night. I was standing on the top step outside of Grassroots on St. Marks smoking a cigarette while my friends huddled under the awning. With my face turned up towards the sky, and my arms outstretched, I felt like a kid again. It was the first true spring rain of the season. Warm, drenching, beautiful. People walking by on the streets, scurrying around under umbrella's looked at my like I was crazy. But for a minute there the rain felt so great.
After all the concerts, the fights, the panic attack, the hurt feelings, the emotions I wasn't sure what to do with, the rain felt fantastic. By the time I left the bar it was no longer raining, it was pouring. And by the time I got to the Pacific Street stop in Brooklyn it was downright monsooning. Not having an umbrella I ran the four blocks to my apartment. Right at my corner I took a running leap and landed in the middle of a puddle, drenching what portions of me were not dripping already.
Sometimes it takes some gritty New York City rain to wash off all the muck.Labels: misc., NYC |
posted by FINY @ Friday, April 08, 2005   |
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| 2 Comments: |
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The day that you're too old to jump in puddles is the day that you're too old for life.
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That's a great story. Waiting for more. »
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The day that you're too old to jump in puddles is the day that you're too old for life.