The rain..the rain pours out your window. You shiver a little with that cold wind rushing in. You hate the down pour. You hate the smell of fresh earth. You hate the thunder. You hate the sound of rain. You hate the water droplets. You hate the thunders. You hate the way the rain brings back memories.
You make your way back home. Same lane. Same floor. Yet something’s different. You feel different.
You lie down on your bed & stare into the void as you try to deafen out the pitter patter outside. Your pillow smells different today. Not like the usual strawberry smell. No, it isn’t yours your realize.
You see clothes lying all over the floor. They don’t belong to you.
You see burnt cigarette marks over the floor. They aren’t yours.
The rain slashes at the window.
& you remember. Suddenly, the clothes all over the floor, the cigarette stains & the masculine smell still lingering all fall into place.
You look at the calendar & can’t seem to comprehend why it shows the wrong date. July 2011. Wasn’t it 1996 when he left?
Waiting for someone never seems so long innit?