Raining in Khartoum

Lately, I'm angry, all the time. The fuse is short and thin. The tiniest thing would set me off on a rampage within. The unsent email, the pending report, the traffic, the long queue at the grocery, the dishes in the sink. There's just something and someone flipping me mad. There's this dark clouds, gloomy and heavy above my head. I spent the weekend mopping over this raging state of mind. Even thinking of it fuel the rage, putting crazy thoughts in my head. I wanted stiff drinks to put out the rage. I felt like smoking.

It was very taxing emotionally. I was very tired.

Then it rained. Well it was not the first time I saw rain in scorching Khartoum, but it rained so hard. The wind was howling and the rain was pelting down in torrents. It rained so hard that it cut off half of the city's power. I looked out the window to an almost pitch black city, listening to the rain hammering it down.

That was calming, almost hypnotic. The rain washed away the dust that I could see that I was fuming mad over something and someone beyond my control. There's simply nothing I can do about it, other then just wait and see. Let it run it's own course.

As hard and heavy was the rain, it would stop, eventually.