Hard Rain

A silver and black photo. Clear raindrops hang like clear jewels off the metal ribs of an outdoor chair.

“After a week of toxic air and choking claustrophobia, it rained today and the wind came to blow the wildfire smoke away. I stood on the roof for a while and let the rain soak me. When I went inside, my summer flats were full of water. The rain washed the last of the miasma away, and finally I could see something other than my own misery. What a relief after this difficult week!

Hours later, I learned that RBG had died after her long battle with cancer. Inside my small apartment, while the news showed images of her life, I cried. I wept for her family, and for myself, and for all my sisters who have lost their great champion. The sky is dark. Outside, the rain is falling harder.”

Journal. Sept 18, 2020

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