The Rain’s Dance


The waters of the night rain chastised my backbones ruthlessly. Me? Huddled beneath the rubble of a hut. The storm of the previous week, with its gales, had left dunghills everywhere. The rain punished me and was, at the same time, the mysterious and anonymous source of my strength. I opened my mouth wide, then, and drank the water from the air that bound me to it.

Have I danced in the rain? No, I have not! But I am sure: the rain has danced upon me.