looks like rain

she gently massaged her neck and glanced at the clock. it was almost 5 o'clock. feeling nauseous and somewhat dizzy, she wondered why this afternoon felt different. she looked at the clock again. five more minutes. she stared blankly at the monitor, thinking back. a little voice in her head had been telling her to take the rest of the day off and come home--quickly. she didn't. she wanted to but decided not to.

she's had it for as long as she can remember--an uncanny feeling of precision and accurateness, of something important just about to happen. but as always, it was awful. there had been several instances when she knew the exact day she was going to get hurt, even had dreams about the whole scenario two or three days before it happens. as a young girl, she had dreamed of her grandfather lying on the bed, saying goodbye. three days later, he died. several years later, she had another dream. that of her husband and another woman, how they met, how they started. it was also in her dream that she learned of the woman's name. she was correct.

"wouldn't it be nice if i have dreams of winning lotto numbers instead," she softly muttered to herself, "then i can bet on them in the morning." as she stepped out of the office, she felt the wind in her face. cold and damp. she looked up for a moment and walked towards the street. she had been standing on the stop for almost ten minutes when she decided to walk home. it was not that far anyway, not if you're killing time. she didn't want to be home just yet. she had this sensation of wanting to get home as fast as she can while at the same time dreading what she knew awaited her. a feeling of coming home to an end.

she walk on home, slowly... watching her feet, counting her steps. her mind raced back to previous incidents--the numerous excuses he would give her for coming home late, the overlapping cash outs for various expenses like new car tires she didn't even see, the midnight phone calls she would overhear when he thought she was asleep and which would immediately be ended when he thought she stirred, the numerous unexplained bank withdrawals, the echoing silence between them...

she was halfway when the rain started to fall. it wasn't heavy, just enough to get you wet. she hated umbrellas and never brings one. maintaining the same pace, she clutched her handbag close to her breast to keep it from the rain. not a bit tired but exhausted inside. and the rain was already falling at a faster interval...

she knew this afternoon would be different... she knew he wouldn't be there at five to pick her up. and she knew he wouldn't be there either when she got home.