Entry #1: the sun is shining but the rain is coming

Below is my first entry, a very rough draft of "The Sun is Shining but the Rain is Coming." It needs a lot of work, but I imagine a more polished version will turn up on here one of these days. As it stands currently it moves way to fast and shallow for my purposes, but the magic is always in revision for me. It's a story that I am working on in response to this painting by Misty, which I helped her name:

The Sun is Shining but the Rain is Coming (Oil Painting)

“Where are you going?”

“Out. I just need to go for a walk.” I said, not looking up as I tied her shoes.

“Your dad is going to be home from work soon.” Mom said, leaning against the frame of the kitchen doorway.

“I know.”

“I just put the chicken in the oven.”

“So I’ll be back in an hour and a half, ok?” I snapped as I stood up from the stairs, pulling on my worn out red sweater.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just need to get out of the house for a while.”

I grabbed my backpack and Discman off the floor and slipped out the door before my mom could get in another word. I shrugged my backpack on my way down the driveway and on to Brandywine Avenue. The early autumn sun was warmer than I expected, so I pushed the sleeve of my sweaters up past my elbows. I slipped on my headphones, and Blur’s self-titled album chugged to life by the time I hit the corner onto Ticonderoga.

By the time I hit Strawberry, most of the stress and restlessness that had been building up all afternoon had a melted away, and I was mouthing along to “Country Sad Ballad Man.” By “Your So Great” I was on Jewel Lake and a straight shot to Carrs.

When I got to Carrs, I made a beeline for the drinks section, picking up a bottle of Coke without stopping to look around. I went two aisles over and spent the minimum time it took to find the shelf with the roll of Spree candy. I grabbed two rolls and headed back out, taking my inaugural sip of soda as I went through the automatic doors. The secret to a successful shoplifting expedition is to not be secretive; you need to walk out the door like whatever you are carrying rightfully belongs to you.

On the way back home I decided take a turn on to W. 88^th and to Chinook Elementary. The playground was empty as I crossed to the sledding hill, lonely in the September evening. I laid on my back at the summit for a while, letting Blur play itself out as the weakening autumn sun tenderly warmed my face. On the horizon, dark moody clouds crouched on top of the Chugach Mountains. I closed my eyes, relaxing as the increasingly crisp breeze pushed around me.