Some questions just don't have straight answers.
"Why do you like the rains?"
I look away, out of the taxi window. Lets see now. That time it cleansed. All those times. Then there were the drives across the bridge, leaving the city behind, that boy, those friends. That time it was ... youth? Love? Settle for a bit of both. You'd think they'd all be hazy by now.
The simplest questions can surprise you with how clear certain associations still are in your mind.
Often these days, I find myself quietly observant, unable to participate.
It is a quiet one, my nature.
"So? Why do you like the rains?"
"Just," I said.