The stars rained down and flooded the streets. The gutters were overflowing, spewing forth bright light. People had retired into their abodes, seated before a fireplace, in each other’s arms. Children stared out their windows and longed to feel the stardrops on their faces and when they saw me, their resigned faces registered astonishment and awe. Some called out to their parents while some remained transfixed. Because no one ever walks in the rain.
No one but me.
I walked all alone on a deserted road, my hands thrust into my pant pockets, as the stars pattered softly on and around me and drenched me with star dust.
Once in a while, I sneezed.
Waving at the little faces pressed to the windowpane, staring at me, wide eyed, I tunelessly sang,
“I love to walk in the rain, darling,
Because no one can see me crying.”
