Momentary Blindness 2

        A single raindrop fell onto my right hand. I felt the cold droplet hit my tan skin. It surprised me. Another raindrop followed, hitting my forehead this time. Since it had just rained that morning, these raindrops were the ones that lingered on the tree above me. They refused to fall until that very moment.    
      The raindrops kept falling until my page felt wet when I ran my hand over the grainy pages of my journal. Every time one would fall, I heard the crisp paper being attacked by the small but powerful water. The impact of the raindrops made a sound as if to warn me of its presence. 
     With my pages now wet, I turned my attention to the birds, which could be heard loud and clear as if an orchestra of birds had assembled that morning. Chirps coming from all different directions. The birds moving above me, flying through the air, their song fading in and out. At times the noise grew hectic, it seemed to me as if there was no order to their chirps. I couldn’t see the birds, but I imagined them hoping on branches and gliding easily through the humid air. 
     The air was thick but warmer than it had been when we left Prati. I prefer it when the air is warmer even if that means that I’ll be too warm with all my layers of clothing. I also noticed that this space smelled like nothing. Usually, the streets of Rome smell like something whether it be the aroma of flowers, cigarettes being smoked by Europeans, food from the restaurants or from garbage piling on the street but this space smelled like nothing. It was the lack of flower, cigarette, and food smells that truly amazed me.