Rain on my Sunday
Blog Post by Quenntis Ashby - Sep.26.2009 - 11:09 pm
She pushes me out of bed because she can and because I can't get up by myself when I can hear the soothing pitter patter of rain. The shower takes major ear focus and the rain is briefly forgotten, only to be re-introduced on leaving the house. Breakfast at a Purple Breakfast shop is accompanied by Jasmine Green tea and a bacon and egg on toast. The New York Times tells me much I didn't know. I leave the table feeling full and the day has just begun.
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About Quenntis
I was born in South Africa in 1976.
Dancing and Singing in CATS: The Musical was the highlight of my career. I also danced for Cape Town City Ballet and the Cape Dance Company.
I live in Taiwan now. When not teaching English, and writing poetry, I go for...
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Rain On Roof
What is it about the sound of rain, one wonders, that makes the bed just that much more inviting, the sheets so much harder to escape?
This would have been a different story, I'll bet, if it was set on a Monday.
You too?
Maybe it's the ritual drumming of little water feet that hark back to the prehistoric days when we were confined to caves to mate or sleep instead of getting wet and dying of pneumonia because we hadn't invented medicine yet... So we sleep as the rain massages our ear drums.