Category Archives: Thought

Winter Rain

Clouds from a Plane

The rain pitters away on their window.
Swirling. Clutching. Salivating.
The rain patters down our roof.
I drop a drip of spit on to the carpet.
A small pool of forms.
I dip my big toe in.
My sock sticks out its tongue.
Laps up the moisture.
Saturated, I become uncomfortable.
Pulling. Grabbing. Ripping.
My sock is thrown across the room.
I pick up debris as I walk barefoot around the house.
Gritty, I become uncomfortable.
Meetings on Mondays make the weekend die in strange ways.

Quiet on the set.

One should never talk during a coffee shop session of a vocal jazz band in a church. You will have people come up and tell you to be quiet. You will have others tell you that you should just leave if you are going to continue to talk.

Church people can be a little uptight while trying to listen to vocal jazz.