Wishing...

To go on a drive some cool, pre-monsoon evening. The wind is drenched with luscious goodness of unfallen rain. Roads are empty. I'm in my freshly washed, soft and crumpled shorts and tee-shirt. The music on the radio is wistful and speaks of love, longing, regret. Maybe the song's about life on some open road. The windows are rolled down. The briny humidity of sea-spray coats my skin like cling-wrap. I see waves rise and fall, churn and recede. I drive to the shoulder and park.

I get out and move to a edge of the bridge.

From the back of the car, I've pulled out a bag. It has my phone and laptop. I also have their chargers. I first fling my phone down. It falls somewhere in the far distance. Then I hurl my laptop. I hear a little splash...the sort a thimble would make if it fell into a bath tub. Then I dump both chargers. They fall straight and hit some rocks.

Everything hard, tough, black, wiry, heavy is gone. Everything that has parched my eyes, lodged knots in my muscles, strained my tendons is no more.

The wind whips my hair about, my tee-shirt flutters in the breeze, and I feel weightless almost. I breathe, I smile, I get into the car.

Windows are still rolled down, waves still lash about, songs still float in like dandelion fluff from the open road.

And it starts to rain.