Rain and reminiscing

I may have to break the promise I made to myself and leave my room and my pressing work in order to go outside and walk in the rain. Like two minutes ago I heard a rumbling sound, and then all of a sudden it was like someone above us had wrung out a wet towel. Thunderstorms are a far more beautiful aspect of spring than budding flowers, a mon avis.

The sudden rain just reminded me so much of my first night at college; I had walked over to a carnival-like thing set up at south campus to meet up with my roommate (who hadn't moved in yet), when all of a sudden the skies opened up and drenched us all. I pulled off my leather sandals and just ran barefoot back to my room, completely soaked and by myself but not caring in the least because it was the beginning of some new adventure. A lot has changed since then; I feel older in some ways and younger in others. Different, certainly. Would I have changed any of it? I don't know.

Maybe I'll tie a key to a kite and conduct some electricity like Ben Franklin . . . perhaps I'll be struck by some brilliant idea for my paper in the form of a current to the brain.


Side note: the carillon is nice and all in small doses, but you know what they say about too much of a good thing.

The answer is not "wonderful."