In the Circle

Raining. It dripped down her neck and her back, plastered her hair to her skull and filled her shoes. The worst part of the present drizzle was that it wasn't always there. It had, in fact, only started as she was returning from point B to point A. If only I ever watched the news, maybe I'd have brought an ubrella, she thought. But really, she'd known it would rain. She had in fact called the rain when things hadn't quite gone her way. Her brother would call her self destructive, but what did he know. Misery was best served with a side of rain soaking you to the bone and cooling hot tears.
She shook herself and looked around for the bus. She had been making these long trips to the other side of the city for over a year now and she still hadn't found what she was looking for. She still hadn't found Him.
Every weekend was the same. The twenty dollar allowance she recieved was spent on the bus trip and the drug that she searched through. She got up early to catch a bus from her suburb to the city. Then she caught another bus through the city and to another suburb opposite her own. She hiked a mile from the bus depot to the old man's den where she knew she could find opium fresh from the poppy. Her day was spent lying down, dreaming the finding dream. And the dream worked because she had the Power. She possessed the old Power, passed from a stranger father and distilled inside her gullible mother's womb. But what she found was not what she sought.
A million serindipidous little objects had been found, lost toys, jewelry, old friends, loose change. So maybe it wasn't that she couldn't find him, maybe it was that He couldn't be found.
She had considered this many a time, but still it saddened her at every failure she faced, on every saturday, in every rain shower that ran with her tears.