before the rains, 11

it was a pleasant evening.

the sun is gone, the sky is dark, half, and stray dogs are chasing squirrels in the lawns.

when we were young, he says, when we were young, she and i would wake all night during the rains. i’d tell her ghost stories and we’d push buckets into corners where water leaked down from the roof.

she loved the sound of thunder. loves, i mean.

when you see her, tell her
a white bird followed you. tell her it’s still on her terrace. that it won’t go. that
it means she’ll travel far: tunisia, istanbul...

she loves to travel far.

she won’t believe all of it, but she might just believe one half.

besides, it might make her laugh
again