Tonight it's raining raining raining. Don't be saddened by my sadness, I swear tomorrow I'll be hopeful and strong. For tonight the streets are wet, wet, wet. There is a big twinkly tree in the square. The teens are laughing and jumping in the paddle rink. What the hell is this place? So much love and joy and shit and agony. There is a boy in the bus shelter, he has long straggly hair. She pretends to understand him and he carries on about studying film and loving Westerns, American Self-Determination, he loves the style, he has to catch the bus, she is standing there, left soaking in all of it. I feel tired by it all. Not just the long haired student, all of it, the whole scene, the tree, the teens, myself, it all seems kind of pathetic, and I know I am sad. This city is drenched tonight. I'm thinking of a Gandhi-style hunger strike. A fast, I guess. Until all the dark water dries up and we are laughing and spinning, spinning, spinning, in the sun, our fingers grasped, our palms clasped. Do you remember the rings I bought for us, when we were teenage girls? "Best friends" engraved in blue petals. There were flowers everywhere that year. On the jean pockets, on the print t-shirts, on the purses, bell-bottoms reminiscent of the 60s. Mummy thought they were so funny. Do you remember how we were going to get an apartment together? When we were twenty, in the far far future. I can't make this fucking rain stop. I had to say it, I am sorry. But standing here, in this bus shelter, pretending not to care that everything is getting ruined by the water; fighting to save them when I can't do a thing to salvage our fabrics. And all the while listening to the oblivious chatter about nothing. Do you remember that "midsummer night's dream" play by the Older Girls at Potch? What about the night we sang "Shepard of My Soul?". We harmonized and it was our moment to feel special. Do you remember hiking at Ngong Hills? Or the Stop over in Amsterdam? Do you remember Mummy drawing the cross in the flour before mixing it into the boiling water? Do you remember our room with the big window and the bright yellow walls? And laughing, at night, before bed, until our belly's hurt and we got into trouble. Look outside, I think, It's stopped raining for the night.
"By the waters of Babylon, there we sat down and wept, when we remembered Zion."