To Not Complete the Puzzle

The rain in the afternoon was slow. The drops fell in dream. They fell out of fear; from what it meant to be in a cloud. They fell from grey; the purifying element of the slate clouds. The result of a transition equal to the best intentions of alchemy. Janie smiled but it wasn’t only for the rain.

Janie had enjoyed five lovers. The rest she had not enjoyed. They were gone from her slate. Eraser dust left at best. Janie had tried many things. Nearly all that came her way. She was filled by each and did not find the fulfilment that was an implied promise in each new drug, cult-pick-hit-of-the-month-book, desert, workout, t.v. show, all-night-talk, and on and on without count without final notice. She was never given the chance to try God so God never was given the chance to disappoint her. To not complete the puzzle.

Moments intrigued her. Cusps of things. Lips of glasses. Beaches at midnights. Moonlight on horizons. Reflections of ghosts and movies of dreams. Dates crept up unremembered until the day they fell down on the calendar. Janie’s mind was as active as the core of any star. Her heart could beat like a rabbit in the mouth of a coyote. It had many times. Also were times to laugh alone and feel like a slower beat was given only in other people’s solipsistic self wrapped imaginations. Janie knew her imagination was terrible.

Jane was her second lover and still her favorite. Their names had been a never ending source of kidding-slash-confusion among what Jane called friends and Janie called your friends. Jane was the worst lover, the worst friend and the only one that Janie wasn’t even sure was still alive or not. But one moment.

They didn’t listen to the same music. They didn’t do anything the same. Janie made Jane a tape one night and was going to give it to her in the morning. By the morning Janie was straight and realized that Jane hated her music and it might be just one more let down. Janie was in love and the smallest fights made her cry later if left to stand. Janie set the tape in her dresser with Jane’s Janie written on it. It stayed for months.

Near the end Janie mentioned the tape that she had never given and why. Jane said, “I probably would have liked it just because it was from you.”

Janie cheated on Gilbert with Sylvianne. But it seemed like nothing so bad and Sylvianne was just experimenting anyway. Janie’d been let down worse than ever by being with a boy. It was nothing like it was told. It was so damn annoying. It was like mixing uppers with wine. It was exciting for about a minute and then it just hurt and felt like a mistake.

Sylvianne didn’t last. But she wasn’t the last either. There were other moments and places and things to do. Having them putting off the fear. The fear came only rarely.

School had given her the fear. That’s where she had found it the first time. College was worse. No one was brave enough to speak it outright; name it. But it was there. Everyone talked a whole lot when it was. They never let the moments quietly visit. That would be admitting that the fear was powerless. And no one was ready to do that.

During one required class she had been lectured on convection, condensation, advection and moisture. That night she got so screwed up she stopped breathing a couple of times. Lucky that Josh still liked her then and lived down the hall.

The fear contained many aspects but sin or mistakes were not among them. As long as Janie was busy. But now she was happy. At least that’s what she was told. Not so busy.

Rain syncopated on the window.

Janie was aware of the drops representing tiny resolutions from the storm grey; things so complicated that they could only be held up in moments. From the indescriable wrong grey of her days came tiny moments. And they were rain drop pure in memory. They were impossible transpositions. Sin played in another key became angel voices. And the sound of the drops ending again. The storm was easy to understand by drops. Her smile did not pursue the rain back to the clouds; evaporating, condensing, finding dew point. Her smile ended as each drop.


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