Erjika Tevkana
Rain melting down the window, the liquid splatters from the gutter, rumbling in the background. The orange streelights blur into shimmering splotches of light, the sheen from the computer monitor casting a ghostly reflection back at me.
The storm finally hit tonight, and my heart sinks at the thought of the competition the next day. The mud, the cold, the wind, the reeking uniforms, the soaked instruments, the warm food, the bands, the carefree joy of being so wet it doesn't matter anymore...
Maybe I'm masochistic, but the thought of tomorrow makes my heart a little lighter.
