Playing in the rain

One day Summer Rain, a friend and I went into a cafe. A light rain began
shortly after we received our drinks, forcing people to rush outside to
safety. After talking with my friend for a while, on topics ranging meet
girls night that World War 3 would look like, I noticed a little girl
outside in the rain, looking straight into the sky, eyes narrowed just
enough to protect the raindrops.
My first instinct was to feel she was in danger. alone? Where are his
parents and # 8221 ?; I looked around and found a couple sitting two tables
watching me closely her. The girl ran to them with a smile, his face wet.
Her mother fixed her jacket and let him run again in the rain. She spread
her arms wide and skipped along a side of the outer court to the other, her
wet hair.
 Look at the girl, I say to my friend. Everyone is running away from the
rain, but it s running toward it & # 8221.

Every time I see a child approaching a puddle of rainwater, I pause to
watch. Almost always, the child attack the puddle, jump straight into the
center to make the biggest splash. So I expect the inevitable scolding. Don
t do that! You'll get wet & # 8221 !; Already, children are socialized to
act like an adult. His playful instincts eliminated.
Are my parents try to socialize me? I don not remember giving me back a
list and donts. They didn t tell me what was acceptable or not. When I
wanted to play as an adult, jump in puddles words, I am very wet people.
The little girl outside the cafe were not bored with the rain. For half an
hour she twirled and danced, jumped and smiled. She couldn t have been more
than three, long before the age she starts school, when teachers and
classmates give him their back list and donts to its carve and take a
simple joy of something as mundane as rain. You'll get wet! Enter! It's
dirty & # 8221 !; Something she loved going to become something she hates
and goes.
Are we so far from us that we t enjoy the rain? Does the company take us in
its clutches, we socialize, we ventilate, and submit a list of built what
is acceptable and what is not?
A month later, I'm in a restaurant eating only a burger and fries. A strong
storm began. Customers who came in shaking the water their clothes before
ordering at the counter. I took my time, hoping that the storm would pass
the time I finished eating, but it was still coming down hard when I came
out of the door. The rain was cold. I instinctively hunched and lowered his
head as everyone would, but I told myself to relax. I released my shoulders
and looked straight ahead.
I started walking to my house a mile, as slowly as I could manage. The
first minutes were cold until my body adjusted to the water temperature. I
looked at the other, back arched, defenseless, without an umbrella, running
to a shelter. I walked by awnings with people in various stages of wetness,
waiting for rain to soften. I am a taxi driver waiting with a damp rate. I
walked by other men who apparently didn t mind the rain, but the neck bent,
stiff betrayed their indifference, their pace a tick too fast.

Many people looked at me intently, a concentrated look. They seemed to ask,
What is & # 8221 ?; I recognize the look because it was the same one I gave
to the little girl, confusion, perhaps even confusion, that someone does
not do what you do, what you're supposed to do.
I don t take it away. I n t spin or dance, I don t smile. Something a child
does every day can be interpreted as crazy when done by an adult, although
I'm not sure if that says more about the child or adult.
I am completely soaked by the time I turned in an empty street. Not a soul
around. I closed my eyes to hear and feel the rain, and I began to smile,
and for the next five seconds, I can say I felt pure joy, that the girl
must have felt continuously for nearly a hour. It ended when a thought
entered my mind that my phone can get wet. I dropped the smile and open my
eyes.
In the last part of my front door, I had to spend a lively pub, always at
my slow pace. A dozen drinkers were gathered in front, smoking under a
canopy. They stared at me sternly. Alcohol has enabled them to give an
answer that others had thought, but not shown. This guy is weird & # 8221.
I felt self-conscious and pressed my house rhythm.
Twenty-five years from now, there will be heavy rain. A young woman is
taken in without an umbrella. It will lower your head, shake his shoulders
and seek shelter. Until the rain stops, shivering with cold, she sees an
old man, drops of his white beard, eyes closed, smiling at nothing. It is
an old fool, she will think, but his mind flashes with a memory when she
was a small child. She looks up at the sky.
This article was published on Roosh V.
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