Red Room Where the Writers Are

it was as if we were driving into the raining clouds, seeing nothing, hearing nothing but the shooting, heavy drops of heavenly water. one could easily feel the tension dripping from the eyes and gestures of everyone...
but there was something mystical and secret between the atmosphere and me, that set me alert, extremely alert, i could even distinguish the hurried, short, anxious human breaths from the noise attacking the car, i could hear the clinking of the zippers beside me from the laptop case. i felt something powerful inside me, as if i am the rain, the dark, menacing clouds, i felt i wanted to go out there and unite with a piece of me long lost. but i kept in there, warm and watching... the heavy rain stopped, and there remained a sweet, light drizzling, like a young lady applying cologne. the sea, visible now, glittered and twinkled. now, everything out there was celebrating, with great eagerness, as if to tell me, u cowered, now u cannot share us.

winter 2007