Water
When it rains or snows, a pit forms in my stomach. I’m paranoid that a roof tile has cracked, allowing water to soak the rafters, jumpstarting an invasion of hungry wet-wood eating bugs. One upon a time I was a different kind of nutcase. In those days rain calmed my teenage anxiety. On rainy nights in a soulless Chicago suburb, I’d lay awake, dreaming of an all-night Seattle-bound train ride. Pitter pat, pitter pat, the steady beat of falling rain would morph into the clip clop of a train. A mile from home, an actual train would sound its horn. Lost in a rain induced train-trance, stress, worries and thoughts of suicide would melt away.
Way out in Seattle, young Kurt Cobain, fed up, and anxious to be rid of Seattle’s depressing rain, dreamed of riding a train to Chicago. Too bad he didn’t. We could have like totally hung out.
Oh, I love the sound of rain outside. I so love trains and the thought of riding a train in the rain to some far off place is so appealing. What a way to rid my anxieties and escape from the daily grind of things. You took me to a place where I have long dreamed of going. What a great post. Thank you for the fantasy I hope to some day full fill!
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is this a sign of old age?
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Beautifully written. I’ve always been incredible scared of trains, but I love rain, so I guess the two mixed gives me a weird sense of neutral.
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That was fantastic. Do you get sick of hearing me say that? That casual remark at the end delivered quite a kaboom. The Gen X memoir marches on. I’m still listening to that song you sent me.
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hey john, you ever think of writing a comic strip? Like the autobiographical sort that’s gotten more prominent recently? It might work out, images like this instead of metaphors. I know you can draw, too. Just an idea.
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you are a kind, kind man. if only my ambition matched your kindness…
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