The rain
Disclaimer: You recognise it then I probably don't own it. I'm just borrowing them…
Author note: A little something and nothing that popped into my head as I was staring out at the rain here…
Rated PG-13 just to be safe (basically, I'd rather rate it too high than too low)
Please leave comments, it's the only food my muses accept…
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I stare out the window, watching the rain pouring down outside. It's strange to me that something so mundane as staring out the window completely bored can be so different. Everything is different now. Everything feels different.
The mundane things that you've gotten so used to after all these years are suddenly a marvel of wonders. A simple thing, such as watching a raindrop trickling down the window, is a spectacular thing to watch. I can almost see the individual molecules of the raindrop, the intricate pattern it weaves on the surface as it makes its way down. I can see the path it's going to choose. The parts of the surface of the window that has the least obstructions for it to easily pass. The colours and the shift of light passing through the water.
My sensitive nose can pick up the different fragrances captured in that tiny drop of water. The grass that it vaporized from, the cold and tangy from the atmosphere, the acrid tang from the smog over the city that it passed through on its way down. I can scent everything. I think, if I concentrate really hard, I'd be able to scent it so much that I can actually see the molecules path from earth, up to the atmosphere where it formed clouds and then the drops path as it gets too heavy and it falls down to earth again ending up on the window in front of me. Maybe all that is just in my imagination though, but it is a wondrous thing anyway.
I reach out my finger and place a tip against the surprisingly warm surface of the window. I know how it used to feel. Cold and hard against my fingers. Now, the surface is warm to my cold fingers. I can almost feel the grains from the sand the glass was made of.
I let my fingertip trace the raindrop on its way down the window, marvelling at the feeling of the smooth window against my skin and the way the glass and the drop looks together as it moves.
Every little thing is a wonder to me now. The way that things feel, smell, taste and the things I can hear. All my senses are heightened to the point where I still haven't gotten used to sorting through all the information I'm gathering just by existing. I'm still struggling not to flinch when I hear a car honk down on the street since it sounds as if they did it right next to me.
I still remember waking up. My senses attacked by a myriad of things at the same time. Above all was the sound of Mick's voice speaking calmly to me. Explaining everything I could hear, smell and feel. He walked me through everything. Everything from controlling my strength to learning to control how far to reach out with my senses. I'm still struggling with everything but Mick has assured me I'm learning fast. I'm only days old after all.
I see Mick coming down the stairs out of the corner of my eye but I keep my focus on the raindrop until it reaches the edge of the window and disappears. I can hear Mick moving around as I watch the raindrop and when the raindrop disappears I turn my head towards him. The scent of blood wafting through the air towards me makes my mouth water.
Mick comes closer, holding a glass in his hand and my eyes focus on the red liquid in it. I marvel at the intricate colours of it and the delicious scent wafting towards me. Silently he hands me the glass and I stare at it. Moving it a little I follow the shifts in colour, noticing the texture of it, the different scents of it. I know it came from a man. I can scent that the man had Cajun food at some point before this blood was drawn. I can also scent a hint of another vampire than Mick around it which I now know is the scent of Guillermo, Mick's supplier.
"Stop playing with your food Josh. Just drink it", Mick's voice calls out from the kitchen where he's fixing himself a glass as well. I sigh and do what I'm told unable to resist the authority in his voice. He is my sire after all.