The Rain The room is almost silent, only the rhythimic inhalations and exhalations of our breathing and the indistinct buzz of the flourescent light above the bed can be heard. Changing positions I shatter the silence, the leather of the chair creaks and pops, reverberating through the room like gunshots. Have I disturbed him? Quickly glancing over, I can see that my movements and the ensuing noise has not caused him to stir. I do not want to disturb him, yet I want to be with him and him to be with me. My eyes focus on his hand, the strong hand that has meted out stinging punishments and yet has enfolded me in the warmth of love and compassion. As my mind wanders in a tangle of bitter