Featured in 2015 Spring Issue of Rambunctious
The Rain's Heartbeat Hannah Smith, '18 Rain is falling through the roof. The drip drip drip drip drip drip sounds like his heartbeat. I feel like anything I think about can somehow remind me of him. I sit scrunched in the recliner, knees to my face. Stoic. My tears refuse to come. Everything has frozen to listen to the rain’s heartbeat. The stillness of the room corresponds with the silence of the air. Listen to the rain’s heart. drip drip drip drip It’s pulse taps on my deepest thoughts like testing a microphone like a knock on the door of the room full of my reasons to cry. It’s constant beat slowly pains me but I love its essence. How can I love something that hurts? I don’t know. One day the rain’s heartbeat stopped. I sat scrunched in the recliner for hours, knees to my face. And finally the tears came, but the heartbeat never did. I think maybe it’s for the best. No more pain. But you’re wrong, it hurts more sitting here alone without the comfort of the rain’s heartbeat.