This porch is tiny, only enough room for 2 folding chairs and a small end table. I know that only from judging the porches of my fellow apartment goers; mine is empty, and will remain so. I spend some time out there, especially while it’s raining. It’s covered, so I can be outside and remain dry, able to reach out my arm and feel the downpour if I so choose. Some drops fall on my wooden railing and make a small splash, and if the temperature is just right, those drops burst into a small spray and they catch the wind and float as a sort of mist that touches my face. It’s really a nice feeling, this late evening rain. The flashes of lightning illuminate the sky for seconds at a time, showing the rolling shades of grays, and the thunder that follows is low and deep and reminds me of laying my head on someone else’s chest and feeling their heart beating.