I sit bundled up in the hard wicker chair, staring at the cold, bleak world around me. My only comfort, some old worn slippers and a scratchy knit cap. I feel freezing droplets of water kiss my face as they pass by with sudden, angry gusts of air. The smell is not one of fresh clean earth and new beginnings. It is tired and weary and hopeless. It’s lost causes and missed opportunities. It’s me and it’s you and it’s the people already asleep. Shadows of the dormant and unforgiving dance upon the walls of every building that surrounds me. They are much too large and look so out of place, but I do not care about this. They are there, and that is all I need to know. I sense that everything is hidden. I think not from the tears of the earth, but from the insecurities the envelop their hearts and unconscious. They feel the unwanted pull of vulnerability and escape to a safe place. To the arms of boyfriends they don’t really love and jobs they outgrew a decade ago. To a bottle of gin and roadmaps unused. The pounding of the water grows to an accelerated pace, pulls me away from this cage, and forces me to look into my own eyes for the first time. I strip off each layer of clothing I have on and run out into this downpour of life, with nothing on my shoulders except flesh. I breathe in the heady scent of water hitting pavement, and lift my hands upward. With the first drop of water that hits my tongue, I fall to my knees and smile. I am clean.