ed

Today I got stranded out southside for about an hour. That's how the weather runs down here; hot, muggy, humid, where you don't just want to bare your skin, but strip it off, as well.

Then, suddenly, you're pelted by raindrops, you can't see the next stoplight. Spraying jets of water, big waves surging out from the sides of your car. And so, with the roads leading home flooded, and cars stranded in the middle of the road, sparkplugs puffing steam skyward.

Stopped off at Toys'R'Us, opened up the car door. Should I be more careful?--one step and with a heavy sloosh I was practically knee-deep in water. The white lines that mark parking spaces was dancing frantically with the glassy waves. Gone were shoes and socks, and a long trek to the storefront.

It was fun, then. Stayed inside for thirty minutes, listened to the employees, mucked about barefoot, bought a pair of Batman underoos.

Now. Now I don't know what I'm thinking, or how I'm feeling.

It could be because Blankets arrived in the mail today, and I read it. And Craig Thompson's story is so profound. I want to curl up in bed with someone, and remember just how it is to touch a person for the first time. Read it even if you don't like comics.