Too much computer time and office light glare.
I step outside to clear my head
–Saying that phrase to myself takes me back to other usages when the pain was overpowering and it seems absurd—
and got a faceful of tiny, cold raindrops.
I kept walking resolutely up the pavement,
my blue jumper dotted with the tiny dark traces of moisture
till all I could think was rain.
I turned back.
When I listen beyond the ticking clock and the whirring laptop,
listen below the surface,
I remember you saying I can hear your heart,
and there’s the rush of the rain.