Rainy Days

By Alexis Duddy (‘22)

The rain patters against the window
Droplets racing down in rivulets
Shining against the black night
The soft music drifts around me in waves
I rest my forehead against the cool glass

There’s a girl out there, in the middle of the street
She faces away from me, a big red umbrella
Obscuring most of her tiny frame, aside from big red galoshes
She doesn’t move, just lets the rainfall around her
Puddles forming at her feet
She turns, and suddenly I am looking at myself
I have become her and she has become me
But I am me and she is her
We were always one and the same
And I find that in my mind
This time exists, a distant memory, yet still being written
Unfolding as it occurs, both past and present
As time seems to blend and mix
Tipping out like milk from a teaspoon
Galaxies swirling in the instant
Our worlds collide
I can practically see the colors shifting
Swirling in my head
We both stand there, eyes locked
Looking at each other and at ourselves

A scythe swings down from the heavens
Severing the strings connecting us
She’s falling
Or maybe I am?
The world sinks to black underneath her, me, us
With the other watching helplessly
Rooted to the spot
My head thunks against the window sill
I look up, dazed
Sleep clouding my vision
Or maybe it’s wake

The rain has stopped falling