The earth suffered from a fever that lasted for months, a drought that parched the grass, bleaching it blonde. The house was surrounded by white hair that was no longer fresh or moist to the touch. It was rigid and it was drained of life. When the fever finally broke, rain pelted for days and nights. Waking up, no one knew the time of day. The clock, it seemed, had ceased to roll from one hour to the next. Like ancient machinery caught in a loop, the sky railed against windowpanes in a strong, steady rhythm. From overflowing storm drains whose white paint was cracked and flaking away came the sound of water spilling and crashing to the ground three stories below.
The drab carpet beneath his bare feet warmed his entire body. Bundled, he slid across the house without lifting a foot. He mourned the loss of birds chirping and sunshine that once filtered through his window, a portal that now overlooked a rainwater lake. Even the moon was missing at night. Clouds hid the stars. Heat was not an option. In a cold room with the guts of dead bugs on white walls, his soft pleas for the skies to stop their crying went unanswered.
For twelve days it had been miserable and gray. That equals two-hundred and eighty-eight hours of nearly constant downpour. Roads flooded. Plant life drowned. Small brown frogs from the swamp behind his house crept slowly across the driveway toward the main drag. They felt safe on land. Everything was inside a bowl of water filling.
It was Saturday when he awoke to a pale blue sky. There wasn’t a cloud in sight. The sharp, fresh scent of warmth permeated outdoors. Heat was not overwhelming, but a momentary end to the cold was cause enough for elation. As the clouds gave way, he wondered how long it might last this time. Each day is one day closer to winter, that unyielding assault that leaves so many soured. Spring feels so far off, like a loved one lost to distance. All there is right now is hope that the strength of the sun can outlast the cold for just a short while longer. Then all things can go to sleep and arise with flowers in bloom.
So many more visions, none of which will be shared.
