A Scene On A Rainy Day On the Yoga Mat

In one of those chilly, gloomy, grey days, our protagonist decided to emerge on her mat. Because it seemed serene and joyous, to move her body while listening to raindrops. The atmosphere was perfectly splendid to soliloquize. "To be, or not to be," that was the question. She then murmured, "I wonder whether it is nobler in the mind to suffer." 

Just after that, the vanilla scent of the candle she lit two hours ago entirely conquered the room. Breathing in and breathing out. The bitter taste of the black coffee that she drank through her teal cup was still in her mouth.

The softness of the mat protected her knees. She placed her sweaty hands on the pink towel that prevented them from slipping. It was a dance doomed to the past. 

There were plenty of things visiting her mind, questions mostly, a river of questions. "Why don't they manufacture olive-coloured cars anymore? Why is everything ugly and shiny enormously on demand? How did people get over the great depression? Why are my hands always sweaty? Am I a nice person? Why is being a nice person so important anyway? What would Dostoyevsky think about the recent war? What should I cook tonight? Isn't "Burn the Witch" by Radiohead underrated? When was the last time that I swam? What are my cats doing right now?" 

Breathing in, breathing out: she wanted to keep it light. She wanted her body to keep moving because that was the only thing that ever worked in her life. She caught herself gazing at the sky as she raised her hands through the ceiling. She stopped. 

It was a dance devoted to the present moment. The sky was the studio, and the wind was dueting with the rain. There was a dream hung. 

But when was the last time she dreamed of a summer night?