Rain and old movie

Rain Makes G. Look Like an Old movie #

It rained all weekend in G. Not delicate rain either. Proper winter rain. The kind that turns the sea dark grey and makes buildings look older suddenly. I love it. Dad says rain makes people drive like criminals and immediately become emotionally unstable in supermarkets. Police observations apparently never stop professionally. This morning the apartment smelled like coffee, smoke, wet coats, and sea air entering through the terrace doors every time somebody forgot to close them properly. M. met me near the center around lunch wearing a navy sweater and looking like someone from an Italian film where everybody smokes and suffers beautifully for two hours.

Rain suits him unfairly well.

We walked for almost an hour under one umbrella that did absolutely nothing useful while the city looked silver-blue around us. Wet scooters. Fog near the port. Old women carrying shopping bags aggressively through puddles. G. in rain feels cinematic without trying. At one point we stopped near the harbor and watched boats moving violently against dark water while M. talked about sailing with complete seriousness as if discussing religion.

I asked if he ever gets scared at sea. He shrugged and said: “Only of stupid people.”

Reasonable honestly.

By evening the rain became softer and the city lights reflected everywhere like melted gold. I already miss it and I haven’t even left yet.

RAIN.
Remember me,
Eclipse