Water

Usually pressing the twenty-seventh floor button isn’t this hard. On a daily basis I do it without thinking, but tonight it feels like a job. Drops of water fall and collect between the buttons where my hand lingered. Drifting into the back of the elevator I fall into the corner, my soaked shoes squeaking along the way. I bury my hands into equally soaked pockets and wait for the doors to open again. By now I have choked back most of it, but I feel a stray tear catch and fall down my cheek. I’m exhausted from crying. The familiar ding startles me slightly. I walk out of the elevator leaving a trail of water as I go. Once again everyday things are taking an abnormal amount of time as I reach for my keys and unlock the door, seeking relief as I take off the first layer of heavy, soaked clothes. Not bothering to put them away I let them drop to the floor. I head straight to the bathroom and into the shower leaving the rest of my clothes on. I don’t like the idea of being totally bare right now. Heavy streams fall onto me and relieve me. I imagine I’m in a warm summer rain of my past. Today’s rain felt so cold. Bright warm images fill my head and I feel like I can breath normally again.