It was a balmy afternoon, as I left the office. It was warm, standing in the sun warm, even though the sun wasn't shining. Clouds obscured the glistening rays; a milky grey sky was over head, like dirty cottonwool. Rain fell, as I walked home. Big drops covered the ground; plump, round, drops fell, spread sparsely apart. I could feel them on my face, split, splat, splosh. I wanted to stick my tongue out, but I wondered what people my think. Well, it wasn't so much that I was worried what people might think, I just wasn't in that mode. Suit and tie mode doesn't allow for shorts and singlet behaviour. But they felt good, as they fell on my skin. Cool, fresh, alive. Real like a sloppy dog kiss. Real like a splash from a fresh creek.
I wanted to take my socks and shoes off and wade through the water washing down the Bourke Street gutter, except, of course, the rain was barely wet on the ground. I wanted to race boats and get sticks and unblock the drains. I wanted to smell the moisture, as it fell through the air.
I wondered if it would ever rain like that again, in Melbourne, as I tried to make myself as big as I could to collect the maximum number of drops. I spread my arms out and pointed my face toward the sky with my eyes closed and felt the fresh drops on my eye lids, nose and lips, suddenly not caring a damn what anybody else might think, because I don't think it will ever rain again like it used to.
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