The rain was perfect for a waltz yesterday.
I could smell it coming, and I raced outside.
The first drops hit me as I took off my shirt.
My skin tingled at the chill.
You laughed at me.
Now let me tell you why I’m free.
I once met a lady at the sea-side.
Her name was Bethany.
At the time, she was nineteen, and quite crazy.
She used to wear the same dress, every day.
It was green, with white flowers.
She would walk across the sand to the water’s edge,
where she would spin around,
looking up into the sky,
and get so dizzy that she’d fall over,
into the waves.
She would lie in the wet sand for a long time.
People would walk past her and laugh.
Bethany told me, one day while we ate hamburgers,
that she liked it when people laughed at her,
because it meant that they might not realise,
that she was laughing at them.
I never knew what she meant, until yesterday.
The day that you laughed at me,
dancing with my crazy Bethany,
in the summer rain.
Bethany disappeared a year ago.
I miss her.
Now I’m nineteen, and quite crazy.