Trail Of Broken Dreams [ONGOING]

CHAPTER 9: TASTE OF RAIN

Who said rain is God's own poetry in motion, have not heard from others.

For some, it is an opportunity to express their love. For elders, it is a bittersweet symphony. For young ones, it is just a wet playground. But most of all, for me, it's a reminder of my lost love. It is a chance to free out my emotions and allow the droplets to mingle with the tears on my face.

I looked out the window.
The sky was bedarkened and angry.
People, quickened and pacing
The trees, whirling and dancing

Is this a verse from a poem? Or a passage from a book? Indeed it is not. This is a sight I've been staring at for a while now. The room appears smaller than usual, it feels like there is something outside pressing against the window. Maybe it is the noise or probably the heavy whirring sound just like that of the helicopter fan.

How beautiful is mother nature? The picturesque-perfect sky suddenly changes to a racing cloud humming with the charged energy they are desperate to release.

I move from the reading desk to my bed, for I am already imagining the sound-massage of pitter-pat upon the rooftop.

"A good day to start a TV series," John said covering himself with a blanket as he stretch his hand to get his Ipad.

It was John and me alone in the room. Jack has gone out for his early morning training.

"No lighter!" I exclaimed after coming out of the kitchen.

"You got yours?" I asked loudly and almost frustrated

"Hmm, I don't know where I kept it," John replied as he removed his headphone.

"Let me get one to lit the firelight before this pitter-patter starts," I said to myself.

It was too cold to even make a tea and the room was distilled with fresh air. I went straight to the wardrobe to wear my hoodie as I head out to get lighter.

I have my feet mounted on the cool soil, my eyeballs pointed skyward, watching. My ear standstill as I look at the sky thrumming with the anticipation of the release. Immediately the huffing wind dried my woebegone lips.

The sky seems gloomy. Who would have thought that something as colorless as water could make the clouds so dark.

I was only halfway to the grocery store when droplets of moisture began to fall from the sky, what could be better, amid the wintry wind that blows my hair into artistic swirls

I look up, water poured at once, the droplet on my face was much cooler than that on my skin. I look straight ahead again but this time, the view was murky. Close range was difficult. People ran for cover, umbrellas opened, cars swooshing and horning.

I aim for shelter in a nearby Café. Inside, the noise eventually lessened and the drops faded into a musical chime. I decided to get a coffee to warm my body. I signal for a waiter and to my greatest surprise, I saw Sarah walking toward me with a blue apron on.

"What can I get you?" She asked smiling.

"You work here?" I asked ignoring her question.

"As you can see," she said bemused.

Just then I noticed she must have forgotten me. "Don't you remember me," I said.

"Hmm I can't recall," she replied staring closely.

"We met at the party tournament."

"Oh, you're the strange loner guy," she said.

"That is one way to put it," I said, barely done with the words.

"So, what are you ordering," she cut in before I could finish my statement.

"White coffee."

"Ok, just a sec," she replied.

She came back with the white coffee.

"Yeah, I noticed you ran from the party early," I said trying to start a conversation.

"Sarah!" another waiter called.

"Duty calls," she said readjusting her hairnet.

What could be better, sipping a hot coffee amidst being half wet and watching the droplets drip down the Café glass.

I walked up to the counter to make payment. "You still haven't replied," I said to Sarah who is busy attending to some customer.

"When I'm done," she said, this time walking to a customer's seat.

I stand at the counter watching her walking to and fro, the other waiter is nowhere to be found.

I reach for the shelf and get an apron.

"Any more surprises," she said giving me a bowl of coffee cups.

Before I could reply she said, "you know my name, when I left the party and somehow where I work, now helping me, should I be afraid?"

"Give this order to the Barista," she said immediately, handing me a paper.

"Where is the other waiter?" I asked her.

"Too many questions, I have a shift in the next few minutes," she said declining my statement.

* * *

"Finally, you got my attention," she said as we both sat down at one extreme end.

I smile as I find a word to come up with. "First time seeing you around, how long have you been working here?"

"Let's start with the stranger's name," she smiled.

"I'm Khalid," I extended my hand for a handshake.

"You already know mine," she returns the handshake.

"You are so good at ignoring questions."

"What is your question again?"

"How long have you been working here? And this is my first time seeing you," I repeated.

"Not long enough to get what I want, just weekends for now," she said.

"Not to pry but what do want."

"You," she blinked her eyes as she gave a dashing smile.

"Just kidding anyway, I'm contesting in a dance competition, need the money for registration," she said.

"You dance?" I asked her.

"And sing too," she responded.

"Enough with me, so anything special apart from tracking me," she said trying to fill in my silence.

I laughed as I replied, "I do write poems."

"Poems?" she asks looking doubtful.

"You don't believe it," I said immediately.

"No, but you, I mean you don't look like a poet."

"Do they have a specific look? Try me if you can," I smiled.

"Ok, write about the rain," she said pointing at the glass pane.

"You mean now!"

"Yes, of course."

"Ok, stop laughing, let me focus."

"Ok, I'm listening."

On the roof, I heard a sound
Of an old radio coming to life
When I look up in the cloud
Here comes a hunting knife

Each droplet, sharper than a thousand needle
Each pitter-pat clicks like an angry beetle

Walked into a café
Covered by half

Only the pinkiness of my eyes
Gives a clue about my sadness
But in the city of machines
Who will look close enough to tell

THE TASTE OF RAIN. Today, a coffee.