He reaches down and takes the brass knob in his hand,
swinging the door open. It’s early fall
and the evening air is cool, even more so due to the light rain and slight
breeze blowing. The street lights cast a
vibrant amber-orange hue up and down the street. Behind him, the door closes itself slowly,
creaking as it swings in the last few inches.
The boards are smooth beneath his bare feet, slightly dusty,
as he steps closer to the edge. A small,
jagged stone embeds itself into his heel, though not deep enough to pierce the
skin. His hands hold onto the railing as he looks
out at the street, his gaze sweeping first one way, and then the other. He idly brushes his foot along the bottom of
the railing, and the stone falls away.
He stands there, looking out, leaning forward slightly and with one leg
crooked behind the other. His posture is
relaxed, yet strangely intent at the same time.
The rain creates a blanket of muted white noise as it falls
to the steps in front of him, the slick pavement, and the glistening cars
parked along the quiet street. He can
hear cars as they drive along the main road, a few hundred yards away, the
sound an infrequent modulation of the sound of the rain falling.
He looks up to the night sky and can see clouds overhead, darker
amorphous outlines in a dark grey sky.
The rain creates halos around the street lamps. He can make out the rain as it falls past the
lights, brought suddenly into view, streaking lines of orange against the dark
background. The lines disappear
momentarily only to end their journeys as rippling specks in the puddles across
the street, as beads of water running down glistening windshields, or a
rippling shimmer as the droplets are stopped by the branches of the maple tree
overhead.
There’s a quiet peace to the evening, as if the whole world
were still. He takes a deep breath,
filling his lungs with fresh air, and can feel his muscles relax. The coolness against his skin is
invigorating. Nights like these have
always made him feel … better connected to himself, to the world around him. Peaceful.
A car passes by, the distinct sound of tires on wet pavement
barely registering until the car enters his field of vision. He can make out the driver’s face, bathed in a
blue glow from the light of the car’s dashboard. There’s a passenger in the seat next to the
driver, apparent, though hidden in shadows, when the driver turns and speaks,
lips mouthing soundless words. They are
looking for something along the street, and continue their trip, the red of the
tail lights rolling slowly further away.
Broken from his reverie, he watches the red of the lights
flare as the vehicle reaches the intersection and stops. Then, after a moment of apparent indecision by
the driver, the lights disappear off to the right and he is left alone with his
thoughts and the rain.
One last look up at the sky, taking it all in, and a deep
breath. Then he turns, looking through
the front window. The light from the
lamp in the living room lets him see a small corner of the room, nearest where
the light is shining, where the light is brightest. The door swings inward easily, and soon he is
back in the brightness and warmth of the house.
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