The worms come out when it rains. Here in Blacksburg when the wet hits the pavement, the worms respond in thousands. Pink curlie ques, wriggling question marks, and long exclamations mark the path on the way to class.
I am careful to look down on rainy days. I am careful not to step on the rosy nematoda, lest one get squished into my nike treads, making for a grotesque mess on bottom of shoe.
And I think it ironic that it’s raining today, of all days. You know, some people say that rain is really God’s tears, that when it pours, He’s crying.
And, being practical, I never believed the God’s tears theory. I thought, it’s just a tale - a tale of the fairy, or old wives variety. Rain is really (rationally, scientifically) caused by weather occurences, by gasses and exhanges, precipitants and patterns. Everybody knows this is the truth, right? We know it’s true cause we were taught this in our fourth grade classroom by our smiling teacher.
But what if Mrs. Bennett was *not* right. What if indeed, the fat drops of water falling heavy outside my window really are the tears of Emmanuel?
Today I disregard science and rationality. I believe something greater than cummulative clouds governs today’s rain.
I think it’s ironic that it’s raining today, because, today marks the start of a truly sad and horrific day. Today, hannihouse readers, we are at war.