Those Rainy Evenings

Mae Feshazion

There I was. Little ol’ me stomping barefoot in ankle deep puddles as refreshing cold rain pelleted my skin. I was happy and free. Outside the apartment where my mother was in bed, watching the late TV. The door never closed right. Its rusted red color resembled our lack of wealth, but we were happy. Or at least, I was. Big, fat, slimy green and brown toads were jumping all around me. I wished I was a toad too. I jumped and jumped until my legs were tired. I was catching a cold, but I didn’t care. I picked up a toad and smiled at it with my bright eyes, appreciating its beauty from every side. My mother finally called me in, it was time to let my toad friend go. I placed it down and it watched me leave, our door kept open by the untamed breeze. I was sneezing and coughing and slowly becoming ill. I could sleep that night, my sick self wouldn’t allow it. I lay in bed and fought for breath through my mouth, my nose clogged and running. The next day was just as cold, so I stayed inside that day. Puking up what I didn’t even eat, hoping I’d be okay. I was alright it was just a fever, of course it went away. Back out with the toads, I went again, free for another day.