I want the sky to open up and just empty itself on us, she said. Thank God for the rain, help wash away the garbage and trash. Taxi Driver, she said. I loved that nothing got by her. Not exactly, she said. That isn't how I would have put it. I looked around us, horizontally, toward the sky. It did appear a
shift had occurred. Clouds were pulling in, pushing out. Something was happening, changing. You didn't bring your umbrella, I said. I know, she said. Right. If I had, there'd be no point in wanting
downpour. I looked at the sky, tried to will it open.
Thank God for the rain, help wash away the garbage and trash.