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On Raining Days
I am alone. The light flooding in from the street is no comfort tonight.

I am waiting. Waiting for her. I know she will come because she came before. Yet knowing doesn’t dissipate my suspicion. What if I am wrong?

The rain pours on.

She is beautiful. Different, some might add. She knows how to make an entrance, to let herself be seen among the crowd. Her appearances are spontaneous, materializing out of thin air and slipping away into nothingness. Charmed, boisterous boys follow her everywhere. Always a few steps short, unable to catch her. 

I am not one of them. Instead of chasing after her, I will wait. It is her nature to make herself known. All I need to do is wait. 

And lo and behold - here she is now. Appearing out of nowhere with absolutely no forewarning. She blinds me with her purple streaks. This iridescent glow flashes and is gone.

I close my eyes. I have witnessed a magnificent force that will repeatedly lure the thunderous boys into a senseless pursuit. Not me. 

The rain pours on. 
Phoebe Lee
Published in Issue 42