Nostalgia.

There were times when I could literally smell my hometown, especially on days like today--humid, raining. So familiar, it's so familiar--rain drops splashing onto my face, wind brushing lightly against my hair. I hated this weather, but now I miss it. I can see myself--yes, I can--leaning against the railing on the sixth floor of my elementary school building, frowning at the pouring rain. Wait, no. I did not have time to stop and frown. I had to move on. I had to run across the field under the pouring rain. I had to get to the car, the bus, or the bike. I had to go home.

And then a new day began. But the rain was still pouring, and the wind blowing.