Crimson staff writer

Sally K. Scopa

Latest Content

The mist accumulated in your hair so that when you went to swipe it back, I got the droplets in my face. We were walking, but with the water down our noses it felt like swimming, like we were doing laps. You were a faster swimmer than I was.

You could smell the rain from here, the water on the window, people going by in heavy coats and windbreakers and inside-out umbrellas. You said wouldn’t it be a great idea to invent one that could be blown inside-out and still work. I said that was your million-dollar idea. You put your feet up on the table and said, billions.

Inside, we hung our clothes up just everywhere, over desks, on the top of lamps, off the edges of bookshelves. They were too damp to drip, everything just soaked into the wood.

River Rain

River Rain, An FM Sketch: Written by Mark J. Chiusano, Illustrated by Sally K. Scopa