Margin Notes on Rain

The rain against the glass made a sound like quiet typing. I wrote in the margins of a book I was not reading.

"This weather has no opinion."

"The street below is performing the idea of a street in the rain."

"I keep waiting for the light to change as if it were a traffic signal for thoughts."

None of the notes belonged to the book. They belonged to the hour. When the rain stopped, the notes looked slightly embarrassed, like guests who had stayed too long.