Something to fall asleep to
As he sits on the train he sees himself. He watches himself sitting with eyes tired and strained. He watches himself reach into his knapsack and pull out a potted plant that stares back in silence. The plant growing restless sends out a flower blooming in his direction. He barely notices. And then another. This time he sees it. He touches it. It wraps itself up and around his arm its vines becoming firmer and more pronounced. He does not protest. In fact he gives in entirely to it. He disappears. The other passengers stare at the spectacle but do not react. They’ve seen it all in New York.
The first thing he recognizes is the pleasantly percussive sound of raindrops as they bounce off trees in every direction. They slap at leaves that react accordingly. The second thing he becomes aware of is the wetness of water running down his back. He scrambles to his feet and runs confusedly, choosing a random direction. He feels a concoction of surprise and glee. He finds a shelter near a massive tree. It has moss around its base, providing a soft landing for his terrified feet. He surveys his surroundings. In all directions, his eyes embrace the banquet of green that lies forth. Amongst the green, hints of white stick out upward. Everything is green and wet except for these which aim to the sky and accept a drink. He notices something in the distant. A shack. The wind picks up driving every plant to kneel in its direction. He decides to take a chance and heads off towards it. It is farther than it appears. He walks through the thicket towards the shack. The forest is filled with an aroma of rain and trees and life. He reaches the shack. He goes inside. There is a towel waiting. He grabs it and dries himself. The shack is wooden and dry inside. It seals the world outside and keeps it there. He proceeds through the shack. There is a wooden tub waiting . It is filled with warm water.As he touches the water, the downpour increases outside. He hears the drilling noise of rain on the galvanized roof. He walks to another room. There is a big bed. He undresses and sits on it. There are soft blankets and a window nearby. There a flashes of lightning through the window. Seconds later, the sound of thunder. The storm is far away. He shuts the door to the room and opens the window ever so slightly. A fresh breeze fills the room. He climbs into bed and pulls the blankets ever closer. He looks up at the wooden ceiling. He can smell the wood of the room. It rains and rains. Through the window, he glances a branch swaying in the breeze. He hears the storm approaching. He closes his eyes and drifts asleep. It rains for days and days.
The first thing he recognizes is the pleasantly percussive sound of raindrops as they bounce off trees in every direction. They slap at leaves that react accordingly. The second thing he becomes aware of is the wetness of water running down his back. He scrambles to his feet and runs confusedly, choosing a random direction. He feels a concoction of surprise and glee. He finds a shelter near a massive tree. It has moss around its base, providing a soft landing for his terrified feet. He surveys his surroundings. In all directions, his eyes embrace the banquet of green that lies forth. Amongst the green, hints of white stick out upward. Everything is green and wet except for these which aim to the sky and accept a drink. He notices something in the distant. A shack. The wind picks up driving every plant to kneel in its direction. He decides to take a chance and heads off towards it. It is farther than it appears. He walks through the thicket towards the shack. The forest is filled with an aroma of rain and trees and life. He reaches the shack. He goes inside. There is a towel waiting. He grabs it and dries himself. The shack is wooden and dry inside. It seals the world outside and keeps it there. He proceeds through the shack. There is a wooden tub waiting . It is filled with warm water.As he touches the water, the downpour increases outside. He hears the drilling noise of rain on the galvanized roof. He walks to another room. There is a big bed. He undresses and sits on it. There are soft blankets and a window nearby. There a flashes of lightning through the window. Seconds later, the sound of thunder. The storm is far away. He shuts the door to the room and opens the window ever so slightly. A fresh breeze fills the room. He climbs into bed and pulls the blankets ever closer. He looks up at the wooden ceiling. He can smell the wood of the room. It rains and rains. Through the window, he glances a branch swaying in the breeze. He hears the storm approaching. He closes his eyes and drifts asleep. It rains for days and days.