The Rainbow

The past few days have been debilitatingly difficult for us. We’ve been unmotivated, disengaged, disinterested, confused, irritable, and sad. Perhaps, the realization of how fucked up the world had become finally swallowed us whole.

The virus, incompetent governments, abusive leaders, selfish citizens, stupid racists, brutal Law enforcers, our new neighbor, who fucking smokes pot everyday in a non-smoking building giving us daily migraines.

We did not tell tales of broken hearts and shattered wills as we chugged along through the challenging hours but we thought of the exact same thing day-in and day-out: “There is no future. The world is dying. The dream is over.”

And yet, on a humid day punctuated by a monstrous storm, a full double rainbow sprung up right in front of our window. Now, we are usually not the suckers who would all of a sudden dance for joy and sing praises because of a band of colors in the sky. But after a week of dark and doom, that fucking rainbow was magic!

We didn’t care if there was a pot of gold or a pile of shit at the end of it. We marveled, Instagrammed, Tik-Toked, and embraced that majestic show in the sky like a floating device in the middle of the Pacific.

Yes, we know that it’s nothing but droplets of precipitation exposed to the rays of sunlight. But this time, we wanted it to have some greater meaning - a sign, a beacon, a symbol of anything other than the status quo. And it did.

For the first time in a while, we felt good.

Sheryl and I did not speak of the rainbow, but again we had the same exact thought: “Hope is the floating device.”