When I was young I used to trace my finger along the passenger side window, following a raindrop until it slid out of sight, and then finding another one and doing the same thing, again and again. I was fascinated with this. Sometimes my fingers would get wet and I would think the raindrop wanted to play with me. I used to challenge myself against the water droplet- if this one specific raindrop did not get washed away by the time we got home, then mom would let me go to bed later that night.
I felt sad for the rain drops that fell onto the path of the windshield wiper; they never had a chance.
Vancouver, Oct ’08.