The rain had been falling all day. The grey sky gave no hope for an end anytime soon. He didn’t mind, for he didn’t want it to end. The steady patter on the roof was soothing. Other than that sound, the world was silent. All cares and concerns washed down the storm drain leaving only stillness behind.

Through the quiet, a single note reached him. It was not the rain, but something else, yet it complemented the rain, played off of the theme the drops created. Another note arrived, and another. Before long, it was a proper melody with the rain providing percussion.

He opened the door and looked around, but there was no obvious source for the music. It called to him, sang to him. Ignoring the fact that he was getting wet, he wandered out into the yard. The sound came from everywhere and nowhere. He yearned to follow it, but he didn’t know where to go.

So he stood, letting the rain soak through his clothes and listening. Nothing else mattered; nothing else even existed. At some point, even the rain disappeared, and only the music remained. It lifted him up and carried him away.

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