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I ran up the stairs

pushed open the glass doors

and walked out into the rain

raindrops hit my head

You weren’t there

coming up the stairs from the parking lot

with the umbrella you kept in the car

just in case

I walked home

in the rain

a baptismal of sorts

a cleansing of my sins

Clothes soaked through

I realized –

I may be wet

but I’m not drowning


First publication Door is a Jar

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