Six forty.
The expected rain came. I put on a hooded rain jacket and marched off to the market amid the sound of bird calls while the light was enough to see by. If I wanted a spiritual beacon, I just can’t find one today. But belief in essences can also be scary. When you eliminate spooks, the fear goes away. This is like the long poem of Lucretius based on epicurean philosophy… The rain wasn’t heavy for my trip either way. I met with only one pedestrian coming home: he wore no rain gear at all; just a red long sleeve shirt, and his eyes were on the pavement. I hadn’t seen him until we nearly collided. The surprise gave me a start, but I recovered myself and kept on my way… Outside the chain link fence, the cement gets slippery when wet with rainwater, and this was where I was careful. My imagination saw a few things, just negative fantasies of being hit by a car or whatever. Sometimes the rain reminds me of my second grade teacher and the playground at Silver Lea. My perceptions were very clear as a child, and maybe why the teacher disliked me. My honest eyes didn’t sugarcoat anything, and I was in trouble when my perceptions found a voice. For this reason she thought I was socially challenged, and wrote up a nasty progress report to show my mother. She was the teacher who forced her whole class to sing for the talent show. I remember doing “Grand Old Flag” and other patriotic songs… While other kids could misbehave on the sly, I never got away with anything… I see my image in the rain and recollect rains many years ago. Some children are like mirrors for the truth yet they have no voice and no vote. They are seen and not heard.
robgradens 