The funny way I feel inside

I rested my forehead against the cold chromium rail in front so I could hear what the cute pixie girl was saying.

"I could never go out with a boy who didn’t love, love, love the sound of rain," she told her mate. "That’s a real deal-breaker for me."

Later that week it was really hammering down so I followed her into a bus-shelter. I threw my head back and closed my eyes. I stretched my fingers like a pianist. I hummed and rolled my head from side to side.

But when I opened my eyes she’d gone.

I stayed there listening to the pulsing of the drops. If there was ever an overrated sound, it’s the sound of rain. It’s not even actually the sound of rain. Rain itself doesn’t make a sound. What you hear is a much more complex phenomenon, more intricate than she could ever imagine.

By David Gaffney, featured in several QFs, and hopefully more soon.