And We Thought of Home

It’d been raining on and off for two weeks by then; more on than off. No deep thunderstorms as we had been accustomed to in the mid-west. In the mid-west you could expect a dozen or more high powered storms every year but here we languished through the kind of rain that is no fun to watch from your window and no fun to be out in. I remember hearing the wind in the early morning in place of the traveling horn band that occasionally played past our window in the street below, headed for the main square.

We secured our jackets and made our way out into the rain. I made a comment about the food but I can’t remember what exactly. I was getting sick of the meat and potato routine offered at the local restaurants. I remember there being a time when I was certain I could never need anything but sausage, potatoes, and cheese.

The wind battled with our recently acquired umbrella. The umbrella was very nice as I recall. Someone had left it near the entrance to our building and after giving it a fair 30 minutes to rediscover its original owner, I made my claim. I’m not sure if the resulting smashed-in mail boxes nearby had been a reaction to my decision, but either way; I wasn’t taken to stealing anymore and forgave myself this rare offense.

The rain was producing an enjoyable aroma and the grass and trees in the park around the market square were a deep green and showed clear signs of a bountiful spring. The wind dancing through the thick foliage harked me back to a magical summer some years ago where I spent much of my time out on a farm consuming psilocybin. Thoughts of home were a regular occurrence for us. No new friends and crummy weather weren’t helping. A recent trip to Liverpool had been excellent but too short. In any event, it reawakened the travel bug within us and we looked forward to fall when our lease would be up and we would go to many places together.

We stumbled through the door of an Irish pub and looking like wet rags, looked around for a table wondering if there was anything here for us. The sandwiches were decent and the prices were decent too and we made our visit strictly business and were out in half an hour. I suggested a stop on the way home for beer and she obliged, looking forward to getting something sweet as well. They were substitutes for friends, really. We had nothing to do at our apartment anyways. We had both taken to reading a lot and surfing the internet, waiting impatiently for the skies to clear up while expecting no such thing. Visitors were due in a couple weeks time.

We had a quick chat about our legal status in Poland and had already decided that we were being avoided because of our nationality and stuck to this conclusion. The information that should have come our way already was being delayed; and perhaps deliberately. But perhaps not. Maybe it was a symptom of our bleak outlooks forced upon us by the stubbornly low clouds that moved deceivingly swiftly. Just then, a strong gust pulled rain beneath our umbrella causing us to stop and huddle closely for a second before it eased up and passed.

We didn’t see it right away, but we heard the screeching of the brakes and we stopped in our tracks. A sopping wet mutt yelped and bounded out of the road and scurried past us with its tail tucked tight between its legs. Meandering through the side streets, avoiding the numerous puddles, I was thinking about home.