The Rain

The Rain

I love it when it rains.

Outside, all sounds are muted, all looks grey, everybody seems to be dressed in black.

Inside, I’m floating inside my little bubble. I can smell the rain, feel the rain, I am the rain. I am melancholic, I’m grey, no masks on, I’m clean, I’m alive.

The rain leaves, the kids wake up, people wear colour, the city is noisy. All I have left are little, beautiful drops of what was. My delicate bubble, a diamond.

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