Инстаграм @curtislong Curtis Long
The windows crackle with the spatter of the Pacific waters, risen up and falling now on soggy western coastal ground. The vanilla chai steams and lingers and I travel to far off warm pastures, where the vanilla bean and the tea leaf grew. Then a rush and a wind and the rain is back again, pressing in and asking for admittance to get out of the humid air. "Let us into your dry air, let us soak you and get rid of this water!" it begs. But because the windows don't budge and rain is stubborn, it lashes like a sheet in undulous waves, pressing in. Then, in reprieve, it taps with little drops and whispers, "(please?)" but the building will not cede. So the rain continues on.