I danced in the rain again. The drops were big and plentiful. Like having a shower under the open sky, washing the salt from my ocean swims off my skin.
Then sitting in the rocking chair, watching the rain slowly recede, while the feeding of the young took place behind me. Families are complicated things, and children all-consuming creatures.
But now the house is quiet, except for the grasshoppers’ melody slipping in through the open windows. It’s pitch black outside.
The air is tangible, soft, and smells like a children’s choir singing Handel’s Hallelujah.
Katja Malmborg 