The tapping noise, emanating from all around, echoed through
the house, through the halls and into the room where Daniel sat. Motionless,
calm, sedate even, just listening to the ambience. Moving two of his fingers
the pencil tapped, with the rhythm of the rain, on the page. Breathing in
through his nose, slowly, then out of his mouth, he could feel his heartbeat
slowing, the beats, all merging to the tapping of the rain, the pen and life. Tap,
tap and another tap. Calm, almost creating a fever of pure silence, other than
the zoned beats, he opened his eyes and decided to move from this exact spot
within the house.
Walking along the long hallway, running his fingertips across
the wall as he walked, he softened his gaze to again listen to the sounds
around him. As his gaze softened he also turned his attention to the wall. Hundreds
of small bumps smoothed past his senses as each fingertip glided. This was an
old house, a prestigious house, lived in, a warmth emanating through the rooms
and wooden rafters. He smiled as he imagined the happy times, the solemn times,
the heart breaking moments and, of course, the love most certainly moulded over
time.
Reaching the end of the hallway, Daniel glanced at the
stairs, then started to climb the steep vertical mass of wood while holding
onto the old banister. Each footstep
created its own unique sound, ensuring that no-one could ever sneak around this
house. With each squeak he smiled a little more, actually trying to bypass the
noise by placing a foot to the side of a few steps. Nothing worked which only
added to the poignant ear moving moments.
Reaching the top of the stairs, slightly cramped, he lifted
his arms slightly to press against the loft hatch and, with one swift movement,
lifted the hatch and placed it to the left of the opening. Vanishing from his
view, with a further tap of his hand, he braced himself as, with one leg
positioned onto the small window sill next to him, he lifted himself into the
loft and wobbled slightly as he lifted the rest of him into the loft. Mission
accomplished, now surrounded by wooden beams, he stood, slightly stooped,
looking out of the large window a few metres in from of him.
Lying on his back, the large window behind, with pencil and
paper to his side, he again closed his eyes and just listened to the calm. To
many the sound of rain would hardly convey a sense of calm but, to him, it
meant that he could embrace his imagination, connect to his creative side, think
of things that only a child would imagine. Earlier he’d day dreamed of flying,
dreamed of souring into the heavens, but that was then and this is now.
Once again tapping his pencil onto the loft floor, in sync
with the beating rain tapping away all around him, he imagined and caressed his
thoughts. This house, like many homes, must have been a home of love. Each day,
each weekend, every single year, a couple would sit, together, holding hands
while laughing about the silly things they’d done in their youth. This wasn’t a
place of conflict, a rhythm of pain, or solace, as the rooms were far too warm
for any of that, this was an ideal made real. The paintings, in many of the
rooms, displayed a wealth of prosperity. The rooms were painted with calm
colours, noting nothing of a confused mind, with a garden meticulously maintained.
The rain kept on pouring over and around the house, never
ending, never ceasing to create a rhythm of life. Daniel imagined that the
couple, who owned the home, would hold each other in bed, just listening to the
calm around them, rain or otherwise, as they shared their time together. It was
a beautiful thought, a thought that he’d like to create, right there, right
now. Mentally, most certainly physically, with his emotions agreeing, he would
buy this house as soon as he possibly could. It didn’t matter that a few of the
wires needed replacing, it wouldn’t bother him that the fences needed a lick of
paint, as what he was looking for was a certain feeling. The rain spoke to him,
in this house, unlike the other houses and, basically, he wanted to move into
an emotion instead of bricks and mortar. This was for him, this would be for
the both of them, as he had the final choice of the three selected by his partner.
This was the one.
He truly, to his very core, knew that emotion played such an
important part in life. No matter the rain, the clouds of life, no matter how
many stairs they had to climb, as long as it was together they’d reach the
finish line and, on that day, that very day, as long as it was raining just
like today, with his hand in his partner’s hand, he’d smile until the very last
second.
Closing his eyes, one more time before he knew that he had
to attend to certain business aspects, he again listened to the rain. With each
beat, he heard purpose, he could feel the smile and energy around him and he
knew, he damn well knew, that today was going to be a fine day for rain.
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