Growing Up

JournalWord: Rain boots.

::

He takes one look at her and shakes his head. She continues to tug her rain boots on her socked feet, unbeknownst to the expression of disapproval on his face.

He sighs and decides to make his opinion known. "You're going to get sick."

She turns her head to see him leaning on the banister of the staircase. Still bent over, she tugs her foot completely into the boot and straightens up, pushing her hair behind her ears. "Eventually," she agrees. "It's inevitable."

He shakes his head again and points his mug, half-full of cooling coffee, at her light purple hoodie and frayed, cut-off shorts. "Wear something a little warmer," he demands. "It's pouring outside and you're going to be soaked halfway down the street."

"I have rain boots," she defends, kicking her feet out to indicate her point.

"Not good enough," he states, pushing off from the banister and walking down the stairs. He walks around her and heads to the closet, rifling through the selections of coats with one hand while deftly sipping coffee thoughtfully with the other.

He finds what he is looking for and strips the coat off the hanger, tossing it in her direction over his shoulder. "Wear that and no complaints," he commands, closing the closet doors and heading up the stairs. "Put up the hood and come home before dinner," he finishes, disappearing into the upper recesses of the house.

She looks down at the coat and slips it on. The coat hangs down to her knees and she struggles with the zipper as the sleeves are too long and refuse any effort to be pushed up her arms or folded over. Pulling on the hood, she finds her vision cut off by the oversized bill.

She wants to shake her head at the ridiculousness of wearing such a big coat, but decides against complaining when she whiffs the light musky scent of his cologne on the inside of his collar. She smiles, opening the door and stepping out into the rain, feeling warm.

::

Something sweet to get through the day.

I am at a loss at the moment, deciding my reaction to an invitation to the program interview at BCIT. I wasn't hopeful of actually being invited as the bulk of my application was received just on the date of the deadline, and my university transcript was received well afterwards.

So now I'm in a state of shock and disbelief.

And now I know what I'll be doing tomorrow, haha :) Studying for the interview in a few weeks!

Keeping cheery,

Mera.

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Sunshine Caress

JournalWord: What spring looks like.

***

And it's still raining, as it has been, non-stop for the last three weeks. 

He pauses at the crosswalk, stopping a couple feet from a puddle that is continuously being disrupted by the vehicular traffic in front of him. His gray hood is pulled up to effectively shield the rain from tumbling down his leather jacket and his hands are stuffed into his jean pockets, clenching to generate a pin-prick of heat. He blows tiny clouds of steam from between his lips as he waits for the signal to cross, taking notice that someone has joined him in the rain. 

He can't remember what spring looks like, but if he had to guess, it would be her. 

Dressed in a powder blue raincoat and matching galoshes, she hums a soft, bright tune. Her pale hands grip a floral handbag that she swings against her thigh. Her other hand twirls a neon yellow umbrella between her pastel painted fingers and thumb. He stares, stunned as he realizes that she has pale pink, choppy hair that escapes the hood of her raincoat, framing her face and highlighting her earthy eyes. 

She notices his staring and smiles lightly in greeting, lifting her tiny, rose bud lips fleetingly. 

His heart lurches against his rib cage and he abruptly turns away, feeling ashamed. He can feel his face burning up from staring at the mystical creature beside him. He almost misses the signal to walk when he catches flashes of her light blue boots splashing through the street. 

Practically jogging to make it across before the cars crush him, he gathers the courage to peek at the spring being he had just witnessed. Her light steps bounce her yellow umbrella as she merges into the street crowds. He watches the beacon bob until it disappears among the other umbrellas, diminishing under the dreary sheets of rain and dark ponchos. 

A raindrop manages to slither down his throat and creep into the collar of his shirt. He shivers, turning away from the girl again, and clutches at his collar to deflect any other clever raindrops. He trudges on into a street crowd, disappearing without the same ambiance of a beacon of hope.

***

I love the image of pale, pink hair. It's just so ethereal and beautiful, almost angel-like. And I wish I could have my own cute collection of umbrellas! I live in a semi-desert that rains very briefly, unlike where I grew up, which is famous for it's rain :) I miss the rainy season and I have to say that fall and spring are my favorite seasons! The perfect combination of cool and warm (and excellent for sweaters! Gotta love sweaters!).

Reviews would be appreciated, please!

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