Rainy
nights like this one are very sweet.
It
has been an adventure, this summer. Our
house came to us perfect, with everything we’d wanted – except air
conditioning. I said it would be
fine. Mark shrugged and said all right,
if I was sure. I was only moderately
sure, but I wasn’t thinking then about sticky nights in July.
Those
nights arrived. We opened our bedroom
windows and tried to catch the breezes as they came. Some nights we have been like children,
drawing invisible lines in the bed and warning the other not to cross. Even talking seems to generate too much
heat. We have learned to adjust
ourselves like radios, tuning in to every cool draught until we are comfortable
enough to become drowsy.
The
thunder rumbles deeply – as from below, in the bowels of a cave where some weather-dragon
sleeps. It is a welcome sound to us,
because with it comes the rain. It is
pure music, all the slaps and patters of the drops on the driveway, just
outside the window. The winds that carry
these sounds in through the screens are magnificently cool. If it is a dragon, it is not the
fire-breathing kind. The air is not
becoming warmer – blessedly.
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