Rain with Trains Events

Thundering noises then a crackle in the air is filled with static as a long flash of lighting hits some where near by. A heavy rain begins slowly trickle down washing the hot stagnant air free of dust.

That is a constant on the city streets. The wind lets out a howl as it rushes the rain against the the building of faded red brick walls. Clouds rush in to cover the fading evening sunlight.

White mist of steam rises from the heat scorched sidewalks and the walls of red brick of the buildings facing me.. The once white binding that holds the bricks in place has grayed and turned it many shades of greens.

A garage door opens slowly on it's tracks. Then hum of car tires slicing along the hard top of the road. That is now toped with a layer of black greasy oil shimmering in the pale reflection making the road look like ice. A car slides into the hole in the wall where the door stands opened for it.

Darkness of night is here but for the dirty and half broken line of street lights dancing along both sides of the road. Most of the light poles are in need of replacement long ago.

A long line of large wet black trash bag's that once lined the walls of the brick buildings. Are strolling with the winds forces as if they were marching around. As if Solders on a parade grounds forward move stop! Gust of wind forward move on then stop.

In the distance the noise of a train moves click, clack of medal on medal as it accelerates on it rails. To push up a steep grade of a hill before a train station, steam rolls off from it big motor. A shill tone of sound in a high it's pitch tone cry's out. As the brake are being engaged to stop the train at the station high on the hill side.

A lone dog lets out a voice fully load yawl than work it into a long howl. As the rest of it pack soon join into the ruckus. Let's hope it's dogs although one never knows for sure, when living in the city.

A home less man wonders after the trash bags pushing his shopping cart with one hand while holding a broken umbrella in the other hand. The half that is not broken he is holding over his cart of belongs.

In a lost effort to keep them dry. No doubt he will find a empty or unused building or a where house closer to the train station. Some times the older building are left open to allow the home less to shelter there.

Light are turning on in the buildings across the road, as life as we know goes on. It move on from minute to the next in just a blink of an eye. Our world is in contuses motion.

We don't have lazy days or nights in the city. It never closes even in with storms, threat has not delayed the coming and goings of life. The noisy trucks are now making there way up the hill to the train station where houses, to drop there good.

The taxi's cabs are lined up to drop off those people lucky enough to find one in a storm. Then to pick up those who exit the train from the station.

Doors are being unlocked and locked below my room. Foot steps are coming up the two flights stairs from the garage in the lower level of the building. I turn from my window to look at the door with mixed emotion will today have been a good day or bad?