This is a place I go with my dad. We have a cup of coffee, sometimes a snack. We have a conversation; it's the same conversation we had last week. He looks out at the parking lot and asks What's Golfsmith? I tell him. He recounts that he only has one friend that golfs. Should I remind him again that his friend has passed... Dad talks about the old timers he came with to this country. He talks about the old days.
I look out the window. It's a pretty wet down pour of a day. I watch the stream of water going down the sewer grate, carrying everything in it's path.
Dad finishes his cup of coffee. Ready to go home...?
Some days I feel like a rain dog... In some ways, Dad is a rain dog...
-- I snapped some pics through the window. I happened to like this one where the focus was on the rain drops on the window... I know, not even a shoehorn. More like a DNMC. An urban landscape of a strip mall parking lot at best.
Urban dictionary for rain dog:
A Rain Dog is a dog caught in the rain, with its whole trail washed away by the water so he can't get back home. A stranded dog, who wants nothing better than to get home.
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