It’s raining today; not a light shower or a slow drizzle, but that kind of rain that bounces off the pavement and turns gardens into lakes. You’re watching it out of your window. The water is streaming down the glass, turning the world outside into a warped and drowning landscape. You’re sat on your bed watching the downfall, feeling pretty blue. The weather isn’t helping. You want more than anything to read or draw or do something creative and meaningful, but you know you don’t have the time to do anything like that, so you just sit there and watch the rain instead. The puddles outside are growing deeper and deeper on the tarmac. Cars roll through them, spraying more water over the pavements. You feel sorry for the people hurrying along them, but they soon rush on by and after a time you forget they were even there.
It’s nice to watch the rain sometimes, as long as you’re not out in it. Today the grey skies are fitting your mood a bit too well though, and you don’t want to be reminded of that, but still you watch. All the birds are hiding. You see a few sparrows dart out from a bush and disappear over the fence, but the rest are already gone. They knew the rainclouds were coming, even if you didn’t. You wonder where they’ve all gone and when they’ll decide to come back. You like watching the birds.
Your laptop is on to your right, it’s mechanical whirling muffled slightly as it rests on your bed. The screen is bright and empty. You’re fed up with refreshing it. It beeps now and again, insisting to be plugged in, but you ignore the bossy thing. It’ll eventually fall asleep by itself and the beeping will stop. You’re not really sure what it is you should probably be doing, but as long as the rain keeps tapping on your window you will just sit there and listen to it, because it’s one of those kind of days.
Tomorrow will be better.