An Historical Downpour is a featurette of Rain. It won’t be common, but once in a while I will feature something I wrote on a different blog under a penname. I hope you enjoy.
Originally posted as “Ash Lane” at 12:50PM on July 13, 2004.
I saw her again. This time I didn’t need to trip over anything. I was walking on the crumbled old sidewalk on Ash Lane, while she was dancing and twirling down the middle of the road. Ash Lane is a small residential street in an old neighborhood, so it wasn’t dangerous or unusual to see someone walking on the road.
The sunlight filtered trough the old maples above, making small spotlights on the road and occasionally turning her pony-tailed hair into liquid, shining gold. She stood out from the world as if it were black and white and she was the only thing in color. I swear I heard wind chimes, but they sounded like they were coming from far away.
Her shirt was still too tight, but it wasn’t the Star* shirt I had seen last time. This time it was black and sleeveless, and lacked any other decoration. She was wearing a pair of baggy black pants, and worn, faded sneakers.
But her eyes, those sparkling, ancient blue eyes. They caught me, made my heart skip a beat. How could someone so young have eyes that old? Looking in them was like looking at the soul of the universe. Eye’s as deep as the sky.
She passed by, cocking her head to the side and smiling that knowing smile again. I remember smiling back, but I didn’t say anything. I was too stunned to speak. I turned to catch a glimpse of her before I rounded the corner, but Ash Lane was empty except for a grey squirrel hopping its mad loping way across the street. The world was quiet and empty, the chimes gone.