Call me Rain
The rain started pouring down heavily now. As if the skies suddenly opened and a bucket of water was swung out forcefully. The only sound that could be heard in the room was that pit pat the drops made as they smacked the freshly cleaned windows and trickled down leaving a curvy life-line path behind them. “Why does it always rain when I clean the windows?” thought Miranda, as she sat on the window-side pouf listening to the rain.
She loved sitting inside when it rained. There was something magical about being engulfed in the warmth of your home when outside the gods of wind and rain were lashing out their wrath against nature and mankind.
But above all, she loved the melancholy that came with the dark rainy days. It was a period that made you think. That made you reminisce on your life and consider what you are doing, where you are going. The ‘what could have beens’, the ‘what still can be’, the ‘what ifs’. And it all spread inside an emotion of sweet gloom. One that caused tears to well up in her eyes.
Watching the rain coming down outside and gathering up in piles all the dirt off the roads and sidewalk, Miranda was also filled with hope. That the rain will pass, as will the bad times in her life. That her soul will be cleansed and she will come out stronger. Just as the clouds will pass, so the good times will return.
A doleful smile formed on her face as she let herself fall asleep wrapped up in a fleece blanket, to the lullaby of the gentle tapping of the rain…
