The One With The Puddles.

Dear Lover,

It's been raining the last few days.
People scurry, their arms folded over their crowns, for cover.
Their eyes wide with anxiety.
Echoes of Jim Cantore's words on their lips.
Hurricane season, and all that.

I've experienced a small hurricane once.
During my island days.
And maybe that's what has made me immune to it all.
Don't get me wrong.
I am entirely thankful for coming out of the experience safely.
Still.
I am a little stuck up about it all, perhaps.
Yes.
I am.
As I amble with my umbrella, humming.
Stepping into puddles nonchalantly.
Sprays of misty wind freckling my nose.
And weighing down my lashes into a sort of smile.
Mocking all the scurriers and frowns.
As I sip on my latte.
Roasted earthiness at my lips instead of meteorology reports.

Love,
Me.