Just A Little More... (rewrite)
It might rain tomorrow. Rain comes in three sizes, you know. Drizzle, shower, and storm. Somewhere in there time hangs suspended. That's how I see it. How I love it.
Then there's "what to do," depending on the size. Drizzle tends to bring out the quiet in me. So, I write. Showers usually ask I take a few deep breaths, smell the freshened earth, give some thanks. You know. Kinda just sit there and be.
Now storms... they're something else. Troubling sometimes. They can get feisty and not know when to stop. Kinda like arguments that just keep getting louder. You know what I'm talking about.
Looking out my window, I can see the horizon darkening. What is it they say: anticipation is greater than reality? Works for me. Don't need any more reality. These tubes hooked up to me do just fine in that department. Stupid facts. You know what I mean.
Damn. That's getting dark out there.
Son of a... Catheters have got to be the most miserable piece of medical crap around, you know? But, at least it takes care of things... for a while. Speaking of which, about time to change the collection bag, isn't it?
Damn. Was that lightning? Lit up my whole...
Oh no... Clock on the wall... 4:31. Move second hand, move godamnit!
That sound. That tone just hangin' there...
Oh my. That flat-line monotone...
Just a little more drizzle.
Just a couple of showers.
Just a little more time.