Anticipation and Anxiety in the Wide Gray World

He awoke to the unmistakable pitter-patter of heavy rainfall hitting his window. It woke him up faster than his alarm would have- rain is often unwelcome in the schedule of a live performer.

He looked outside and to the blurry sky, and the colorful array of umbrellas waving around on the ground. Is it cancelled? The laptop was opened in record speed. The internet was painfully slow, but his emails arrived after a moment. He sucked in his breath- the festival was cancelled.

The forecast read the rain would only continue to come down, and it wouldn’t let up until after it would all have finished, anyway.

He sat back heavily. I planned my whole day around this... this was my big break, my chance for more gigs.  As an opening performer for a more popular group, he had looked forward to this for weeks.

The outdoor stage’s electronics would be unable to properly function with rain coming down.

In his downward spiral of woe, he never stopped to realize how it would affect the other festival goers- the small shops and stands who had prepared their wares and food for days beforehand. All of the others who had been rained out, alongside him.

He glanced outside. A kid’s umbrella blew away in the wind, but he couldn’t find the energy to laugh or cry.

-

On the other side of the city, a tired man felt only relief. His prized popcorn machine, both trusty and a little rusty, had taken a tumble and snapped off an important piece. He knew that it couldn’t be fixed before the afternoon. Without the festival, he wouldn’t have to cancel and lose his place in future street fairs.

He brought around his moving dolly and lifted the machine back into his van. The window of opportunity hadn’t been closed by him; he could worry about it all another day.

-

Two twins who had just grown old enough to drink stood in the rain, each under separate umbrellas. They turned to look at each other.

The first twin, wearing a bright blue jacket, spoke softly. “It’s not going to let up, is it?”

The second one, who wore the opposite colors, replied after a moment’ thought. “No, I don’t think It will. Not in time for, well, you know….”

“Pity.”

“It really is.”

They stood in silence for a moment, before one arm swathed in blue nylon raised to point down the street. “I’m feeling thirsty. Think it’s too early?”

“I don’t know- I guess we’ll have to see.”

And they both laughed as they walked down the wet concrete, and they felt somewhere, in the back of their minds, that it was a shame they couldn’t have a good time with the crowds of others, but this wouldn’t be bad either. No matter the end of their path of life, they knew that they wouldn’t be able to imagine it any other way.

-

A young boy, who had just turned the important age of three, stood stubbornly on the curb. His first umbrella, an unsightly yellow monstrosity, trembled in his unsteady grasp. The occasional drop of rain hit his face.

He glared at the clouds.

The clouds looked back indifferently, and it only seemed to rain harder.

He was, in fact, on the edge of a tantrum.

His parents, who had at least four years of experience with the whole parenting business, knew what to do. Soon, his little mind was somewhere else, in a land of hot chocolate, where rain was merely an excuse to stay inside.

-

Further away and a bit higher up, the same storm caused heavy flakes of snow to fall on a town in the first time in years. A little girl stared up at the sky, her face a mix of expressions. A little shock, some awe, and something else wholly indecipherable that meant the world to her. She looked up, and it felt like the sky itself was falling down. She couldn’t help but laugh.

The tiny crystals swirled about as she twirled around the yard.

Her parents watched with a smile from the warmth of the indoors.

-

A slowly yellowing ceiling tile looked down upon the inhabitants of the apartment. If a warped piece of cardboard could look disappointed, this one would be. The look of discontent was only matched by the apartment’s owner, who looked up with a bit of a squint. A handful of nondescript boxes piled up atop the dining table, already filled.

If I can move fast enough, this won’t be my problem, she thought. Her new home already awaited her arrival, many miles away. Her husband had arrived at the new place from a business trip that morning, and was waiting for her to bring the last few boxes. She had long since passed the point of caring over small issues such as the one the wet ceiling tile posed. Living for over six years as a tenant in this dump of an apartment had changed her way of thinking.

She checked her forecast. Wind speed warning? Possible thunderstorms? Wild. I should get going now.

Her phone rang, and she picked up it up immediately. “Hello?” came the tinny voice from the other end.

“Who is this?” She asked impatiently. The reply came after a short pause. “It’s me. Uhm, well, I have some bad news.”

She placed the voice as belonging to her husband. “That doesn’t sound good. What happened?”

The sigh was audible through the phone. “The wind blew a tree down. Went straight through the house, right into the kitchen. Knocked the stove down. Absolutely insane sound as it came down, by the way. Don’t worry about the gas, I already turned it off. But, well, maybe you should stay there tonight?”

“Oh my God…. Give me a moment, let me process this one bit at a time. Is the stove destroyed?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Turns out it only ended up lasting a day- all that worrying over reliability was for nothing.”

“How’s the house?”

“It’s had better days. Insurance should cover it, thankfully.”

She felt like hitting something, but settled for rubbing her forehead. She took a deep breath to calm down. “Can you come here tonight, then? Or do you need to stay there and work out stuff?”

“I probably have to stay here…. Hey, a car just pulled up. It’s probably the plumber. I’ll have to turn him away. I don’t think the sink is available right now.”

She let out a rather strangled laugh. “Call me back soon, okay? I think I need to sit down.”

“Love ya. Sorry about all of this.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not your fault. Just… ugh. What a disaster.”

“He’s knocking on the door now. See you soon.” And with a click, the line went dead.

She sat down on the old and stained couch, and put her head in her hands. Maybe I’ll have the time for the ceiling tile after all, she thought.

And even though there was a bit of a hiccup, life moved on, and in the end, it worked out all right. She felt a certain amount of insignificance- the storm had sent a tree weighing more than a ton through her house, and hadn’t even stopped to apologize.