Rain-wet

She just walked on in her usual way. She looked as she always did, little rough around the edges, not a portrait of poise, but she had an honesty about her that all her friends enjoy. She learned from dead men and women, whether in their pages or records of them on stages, she knows the past is stained, and hopes to change the present with the knowledge she’s obtained. She has little time for liars and drunken slurs, she’d rather have something personal, something hers. She is looking for it, in the bars and coffee shops, in the book stores, under rocks. She is losing hope however, without an umbrella in rainy weather and whether or not it even exists she wants to persist until she has it. Or something like it. That feels pretty damn close, and isn’t that all we can hope for ? A settlement that only hurts every other moment? So that half our lives are more sweet than walking home alone on a rain-wet street, where the blue is real. Tangible, and cold. Old. Gray. He feels like he is fading away. He fights for ideals that have all but died. For a truth constantly denied, for passions and free thoughts. He finds himself distraught at night in the dark, in his thoughts. Why not? He muses. I think i ought to continue through abuses and attacks, for persecution is often indicative of merit, I think that alone will let me bear it. I only wish I had some with whom to share it. Grandiose thoughts are fine in their own right, but without someone to hold in the cold blue night, what do they mean? anything ? It’s a silly thing, but I always thought our greatest discoveries were the ones stumbled into with fellows unlikely and unlike me in complimentary ways. Hers to his and such pairings, something so human called caring. He walked down a rain-wet street on a cold blue night. She pulled her collar close as the damp ground passed underfoot. He glanced to the other side of the road, and crossed. She side stepped around some garbage that had been tossed. As he stepped onto the opposing curb he saw a woman walking toward him, she wore her collar close, as one would in the bitter cold, on a rain-wet street. She saw him approaching with light in his eye. Whilst both held dreams in mind, all that each let out was a sad sigh.

Once, a man and woman passed on a street, and for all their desires, and hopes, all they managed was a simultaneous sigh as they walked on down a rain-wet road.