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Writer's pictureThe Current

Perpetual Rain

Time loses meaning in the perpetual rain. The wild stream engulfs you, grips you, becomes you. You can’t breathe. The cold dominates. Everything hurts, but you can’t tell if you’re bleeding because water washes the blood away. Tears get washed away, too.

With a downpour like this, an umbrella won’t help and a raincoat would just slow you down. Water is a heavy load to carry, after all. The only thing you can rely on is your sanity and the fading strength of your hands. You can’t get a good grip when everything is so slippery, but you do because you have to. You have to find a way. You must lose track of time to make the time pass. You must end the endless rain. You can hardly see what lies just a few feet away, but you know that eventually, in one ephemeral moment, you’ll find a way.

Luckily, you’re only here, here amidst this storm of white noise, until you aren’t. Until the stream of sound turns to silence, and the silence turns to peace. Until you cope. Then the rain stops being rain. It’s just water now, all encompassing water, omnipresent, but never harmful. Water is soft, right? Remember? Wake up! WAKE UP!

The rain’s aggression is gone. The cold fades. You shed your drenched layers. The moment is coming. Now you’re ready to go fast. Your pulse quickens. You can see the end, the sun parting the clouds. Rain is vaporized by your heated fervor. You accelerate, you’re somehow even faster, faster, faster. The rain’s pitter patter slows. Cacophony becomes calming. You can hear each drop now, landing. Pit. Pat. Pit. Pat.

Last stroke,

Glide,

Done.

The only drops left are the ones dripping off your body. You take your goggles off and hop out of the pool. The storm has passed. It’s all over, at least until tomorrow.


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