Nice memories from Trey.
I don’t get sad when I see rain begin to fall.
For me, melancholy and rain do not mix.
I love to feel it on my face, on my lips….
Kiss the rain boy…..
Always kiss a friend when you see them again….
It is this purification ritual from the weeping sky that prepares me for time travel.
Rain is sustenance for my earth.
It makes all the pretty flowers grow.
It is also the fuel that propels me back through the myriad of my wilting memories as I grow older, as time moves me further away from dimming days and shadow people that made up my life then.
My actual really real time machine is a kitchen chair by the window.
The floor my chair sits on is linoleum. The kitchen table is under my elbow.
The curtains of the window I…
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