Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Rainy day pho

Any man who knows what is good for him will take note of days like these.  They're little jewels that refract and magnify the light you must find inside you during dark times.

Today, the sky was dark, low, and heavy.  It menaced all day, unpredictable as a surly drunk.  But it held off while Dave Hauth and I made the climb up Tabor and back.  We talked a lot about books, about religion and philosophy, about history.

The pregnant clouds grew darker as I drove out to Mall 205 where I picked up Maty from Target.  She came out as I pulled up.  She was pushing a cart full of supplies for the bathroom.  Soap, shampoo, and the like. 

A few raindrops hit the windshield as we drove homeward.  She'd had a long day and didn't feel like cooking.  We decided on pho.

We were safely seated in the corner booth of Pho Dalat, waiting for our soup when the sky finally broke.  An audacious deluge of big, warm, sloppy drops spattering the pavements.  Outside, on Cesar Chavez, the tires of passing cars hissed in the wetness.  A mist rose up from the blacktop.  "It's rainin' now, honey," I observed.

"I think so it's gonna rain more harder," she said.  She peered out the glass, up toward the ponderous slate sky that hung over the city.

"We're fine right here, honey," I said.  "We'll be nice and dry in here."

Just then, the young woman who waits the tables came.  She had two big bowls of pho.

1 comment:

Calamity said...

I really enjoy your writings. I don't comment much, but I don't miss a thing !
Have a great day !