Rain like Silver Silk

Brassai La Pluie
No time like the present.  With Natasha's being handed her the torch, she knew that if she didn't act quickly, too much time would pass her focus would be taken away yet again by demands of the moment. So despite the myriad of responsibilities that were calling her name, she created a small window in which to address something that had haunted her since times had got too dangerous for her to enter.  
    The rain constantly fell from the sky, like moist, silver silk threads from clouds above.  Ornate wrought iron balconies rose above her attached to their wet sandstone coloured facades.  The black heavy door swung open and a woman's head peered round and beckoned her in out of the rain.  Walking up the winding stairs, dozens of butterflies frozen in time, hung static and suspended by thread encased in glass.  
   Only days in the new city Natasha was still feeling disorientated.  Had she been resting too long in her comfort zone perhaps, afraid to step out of her abstract perfect world, afraid that the imperfect realities of the word would shatter her to the core?  
    He was busy.  She could wait.  He darted and zigzagged across the room like flashes of lightening.  His movements were so rapid that the action had been finished before anyone had noticed that he had started.  He spoke quickly and softly, that invited a certain close proximity, yet at the same time, what he said revealed mostly astute factual analysis that simultaneously gave a sense of detachment to their meeting.  This challenged Natasha's largely emotional response to her surroundings, especially in her disorientated state. However, instead of disliking this contrast, she welcomed his matter of fact approach, realising that she needed this kind of detached stance to compliment her largely subjective understanding of the project at hand.  Similarly she felt that he appreciated her dreamy creativity that gave him the opportunity to put her cloud formation under microscopic analysis.  By analyzing the shape, consistency and formation of droplets he was able to influence the way it change shaped as it moved across their collaborative sky of ideas.  
   Finally, after five hours exchanging ideas, they reached a nexus that created an arc-en-ciel in the sky.  They paused to look at how colourful their ideas had become, before dashing back out into the city night rain.

     Waking up to the syncopated pita-patter upon the slanted grey roof directly above her Natasha slowly came back into consciousness she remembered how she had been so  awake with anticipation of hope at the possibilities that had been created from the meeting.  She had almost been afraid to fall asleep in case that she would awake and it would have all been a silly dream.  Instead she's stayed up listening to music and let her her mind wander down lanes that for so long she had marked and almost disgarded as part of her past dead ends.  Now, warm and sleepy the feelings of joy and hope return to her despite the circumstances almost constant drilling of droplets upon tiles outside. 

    Natasha felt like she was going through an intense growth period.  The little annoying things of daily life that used to constantly pester her just didn't bother her anymore. Her mind was occupied with far greater endeavors. Previously, it had taken all of her energy to get over these pesky and temporary ticks that had tripped her up on a daily basis and at every turn.  Now, she didn't even notice if the room was too small or if she´d forgotten her toothpaste, or the coffee was bad, because all these were just temporary obstacles leading her to a larger goal.  It is not like she had forgotten the details.  Quite contrary, she had to pay attention to details now more than ever in order to reach goals that were greater than herself. It was as if her attention had shifted as she was able to discern more closely what details mattered and what details were just passing pests that weren’t worth her attention.  Besides, she was used to finding her way round small spaces, after living in Tokyo for a year, she knew that there were some benefits to miniature living.  Firstly you became more efficient and minimalist.  You had to, otherwise you would drown in your own clutter.  Secondly, it encouraged you to go out more and explore and being right in the heart of what was known to be one of the most romantic cities in the world.  Sure it was a cliché, but this particular cliché that provided her with just enough of an illusion to see the contradictory nuances that were seeping through.

Comments