Little, Wondrous Moments

We were walking back from somewhere I don't remember... maybe a store.  Possibly, we just had dinner at a restaurant.  The air was sticky, yet electric like Zeus stroking our arms with candy-coated fingers.  The sky was covered in clouds.  We felt the first drops at the stoplight and we prayed the heavens wouldn't open completely until we were inside.

Our pleas weren't answered.  The rain began to fall like clear sheets-- moving windows-- and the sound was a pattering roar.  Within seconds, we were soaked and moved for cover under the awning of a local business.  The world turned slick and we watched other hapless travelers scramble for safety through the warping water.

He was worried for me.  My power wheelchair's controls are vulnerable to wetness.  He asked me once, twice if I was okay, as if I could dissolve.  And I... I was laughing.  Cold, exhilarated, with glasses fogged.  I kissed him.  Pulled him down to me and pressed my cold, beseeching lips to his.  And the rain... well, it started to sound a bit more like applause.

He was smiling after that, too.
Life is mostly the small moments tucked inside the envelopes of desire, disappointment, and bliss.  Laugh in the rain, my lovelies.  Just don't do it with lightning present.