Mayday
I ran up the stairs
pushed open the glass doors
and walked out into the rain
raindrops hit my head
You weren’t there
coming up the stairs from the parking lot
with the umbrella you kept in the car
just in case
I walked home
in the rain
a baptismal of sorts
a cleansing of my sins
Clothes soaked through
I realized –
I may be wet
but I’m not drowning
First publication Door is a Jar
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