Five-Hundred Word Challenge 1210: The Rain Returns

And so the evening is now here and it has been a hot day and now I think of all the things that I could think of that relate to the day and try to compartmentalise them all but that doesn’t actually happen.

Today was a hot day and now it is cooling down and rain has arrived and it creates an assortment of sounds which is what I want to hear right now. There are other things that I want to hear but right now just the rain is nice; well, the rain and the music I’ve got playing but that will soon end as I will sluggishly crawl toward bed and slither under the blankets upon which I will undertake the act of passing out so as to be able to feel tired tomorrow.

Until then, however, I think of things that are here and now and I think about how I should end this. Then again, maybe I don’t but I am thinking about how to end this bit of writing, and I’ve realised that I still have quite a few words to go and so now is not the time to be thinking about how this bit of writing ends when there is so much to traverse in the way.

The rain is getting louder and it forces a cool air into the room and that too is nice. However, I wonder for how long it will be nice as eventually it won’t be that way. Eventually it will be something that will just be there and so once more it becomes part of the background constantly pressing inward but never quite getting there. There will be much to say and little said and I’ll stare out the window and wonder why for a little while, but then nothing will come of that and I’ll just get on with things. It’s the way things go and there’s little I can do about the rain and its presence.

Maybe I should be like that and instead ruminate on the rain and its qualities and what it does and does not represent but that’s not for here; not right now, anyway. Soon I need to hop under the sheets and sleep but before then I need to think about how I’m ending this bit of writing and I still have no way to conclude it and I’m at the final stretch, depending on what amount of words you consider as being the final stretch. Maybe it is yet to begin, and all of that being said I don’t know if I can even think of something good that will tie this all together, and maybe that’s just how it all goes.

Maybe we’re just running on one spot and we have all these pieces and have no idea to get them together so we try our best to make sense of it all.

Bah. I’m just going to stick to thinking about the rain falling through the night.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:53:95

I sort of got a bit lost in that writing. I had something going, wandered away, found something else. It happens.

Written at home.

 

About Stupidity Hole

I'm some guy that does stuff. Hoping to one day fill the internet with enough insane ramblings to impress a cannibal rat ship. I do more than I probably should. I have a page called MS Paint Masterpieces that you may be interested in checking out. I also co-run Culture Eater, an online zine for covering the arts among other things. We're on Patreon!
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