Rain is coming.
I sense it in the excited chattering of the cottonwood leaves as they turn their silvery backsides to the overcast sky.
I smell it on the wind- a subtle perfume that reminds me of freshly-turned dirt within a forgotten graveyard.
I hear it in the distance, a steady beat of fingernails on the inside of a coffin lid as it begs to be released.
I taste it in the blood that slowly drips down my throat, warm and comforting as the world around me grows ever colder.
I see it in my dreams- dark clouds creeping along the horizon, their secrets illuminated by flashes of memory shaped like lightning bolts.
I feel the anticipation on my skin- it trembles at the promise of being cleansed and reborn into a new world ripe for the taking.
Rain is coming, and it’s bringing my salvation.