viii - Day 08 – A moment, in great detail

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.