THE GIG

The rain had been building all day. Humidity prickling under our skin. I don’t think we birthed the storm dancing. But by the time we emerged, the street-lights turned the sweat on our foreheads into halos and we greeted the rain with gratitude. Let it soak through our clothes and drip down our backs. Each raindrop a kiss from the clouds, an ‘it’s not all bad.’ The dancing, like a chant, a beg for relief. The music screaming and beating an exorcism. Possession like cancer in our throats, anxiety in our skulls, depression in our bones. Jump and scream and punch and sweat, sweat it all out. The walls were dripping. The air was thick with it, the communal breath. Just Another Day. Just Another Day You Were Feeling Low.

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