Time and The Rain

Time seeps in all around; sealing any crevices through which life dare escape. Unyielding windows caked with dusty despair mock me relentlessly.

Views outward from these windows cannot be accessed directly by human eyes. A translator must be procured through outside channels, and of these I have none.

Time has sealed them out as efficiently as it's sealed me in.

I am growing older, lacking the power and resolve it takes to breach these hopeless portals. As far as the door is concerned, Time’s Acid Rain rusted it shut long ago.

Walls are peeling, layer by layer, but reveal nothing more than an infinite thickness.

I will Wait.

Despite the Time and the Rain, exteriors remain eerily intact; with paper-like fragility yet unquestioning functionality. Passers-by do not take time to question the unquestionable; so the dichotomy lingers like a cloud overhead, threatening more of the Rain that so readily eats away at my foundation; my control, my resolve.

In fact, the Rain ravenously devours all but the Rust, whose bond with the door grows ever strong. Time and Rain conspire to make sure of this. They depend on it; even more than I do.

I will Wait.

In this time, I have come to see that Avoidance and Waiting are different species of the same animal. Hope is absent from the former but abundant in the latter.

Avoidance repels you from any fracture which could easily become an impenetrable canyon, while Waiting reveals a thousand-foot rift of possibility inside a single hairline crack.

Whether it is seen as protection or a curse, contentedness is found in the willingness to surrender. It’s accepting the commonplace — despite the discrepancy between dreams of today, and those that were born before Time.

I am content to Wait.

It is all that’s left to do.