a.funnytimeofyear.com

you lay on the messy bed, your legs tangled and your chest rising and falling with the rhythm of human perpetuation. Your head slides gently under the curtains as you lay on your back, gazing up and backwards in a dizzy manner. Your eyes strain to look through the dirty window and focus on the streetlights that dimly cast amber sheets across the roads and houses outside. Your city is sleeping except for the rain. The rain gently falls with a gracious dive from above, until it breaks onto the fall of the open window outside. The sound of falling rain is different here. City rain doesn’t have that flow to it that country rain does. They’re from two separate worlds. There is a film playing on mute across the room, the only reminder of its plot being the flickering of light that shoots into your eye.

At age thirteen you lay on top of your mother’s dirty mercedez on the driveway. The sky is cracking with every roar of Thor’s hammer and is beginning to bubble with the fat droplets of this spring’s rain. You’re armed with nothing but your shrunken PJs and the cool metal beneath you heals your spine. Fat droplets like lavae fall from the blackness above, an abstract painting that slithers down your face, tickling your eyeballs with its moist demeanour. Your window is open and you know that you should go inside before she finds you out here - cold, wet, and entranced by the scene. Your window hangs open and waves in the wind, dry under the canopy of the lower roof. You breathe in for just a few more seconds - the fresh, warm air of neutrons clashing, before you slide your skinny body down the windscreen. Your dirty feet bound across the driveway until you read the dry porch. Droplets fall a three metre death into puddles you’ve grown to love. You waste precious minutes simply listening to the sound of nature’s suicide, the fragility of freefalling. Turning on your dirty heels you climb the low white wall, jumping through the small window and head towards the shower. But not before turning to listen, for just one more second, to the sound of a love you’d only just found.