Endless Rain Chapter 6

Her hearing was the first of her senses to return, and drifting into her ears she could recognize, were the gentle whispers of the breeze as it calmly washed over her. Then returned her sense of touch, which in affirmation of what she had been hearing all this time, enabled her once again to feel the tickle of the wind as it glided over her skin and through her hair. Her skin was dry and upon a soft interwoven layer of fabric she lay, but as soon as her sense of smell returned, the identity of the ‘fabric’ became clear.

The distinctive fragrance of grass that often rode upon the winds of summer and spring surrounded her, and with slow, deep breaths she indulged in its scent. And finally, as though opening her eyes for the first time like a newly born infant, she regained her sense of sight, with which in what had seemed like a cruel stretch of bleak, colourless years, she once again beheld the forgotten, serene beauty of the clear, azure sky.

While still lying down upon the field, she peered to the right through the emerald blades of grass briefly before sitting up to orientate herself, where soon after her eyes were naturally drawn to the spectacular view of the distant town painted against a canvas of lush greenery and open, blue skies.

In utter awe of the breathtaking view, she wondered to herself why she had never before noticed how beautifully the simplicity of the rural town blended into the natural landscape, creating the sense that it too had been there since the beginning with the mountains and the trees and the fields.

Then turning her face away from the town and toward the opposite direction, she set her eyes upon the weathered stone that had successfully stood its ground, deeply rooted in the soil behind the church in spite of the storm, the flood and the rain. Speaking to the stone in a dialogue without words, she looked intently upon his grave in a long moment of contemplation before finally rising up to her feet in preparation of her descent.

But this time, in place of the blackness of her solemn mourning gown, it was the white frills of her pretty summer dress that fluttered in the wind like the wings of a dove in flight as she made her way back down toward the town below.

Across the bridge that arched over the river she made her way, and having traversed the fabled river that since the days of old marked the furthest edges of town, she soon found herself once again amongst the alleys and streets, still visibly damp from the waters of the flood. She navigated her way through the network of footpaths until finally, at the familiar porch of her humble abode she arrived.

The violent floodwaters had receded, but the effects of their wrathful nature remained, for the elements had left the structure of the house significantly weakened and she knew just by a superficial visual inspection of the exterior that though the house was still standing, it would no doubt fall in the absence of large scale repair and restoration works.

So in her heart, she forged the resolution to save her house in remembrance of him, but not before first heading to the kitchen where she made herself a sumptuous meal with what food she could gather from the nearby bushes and trees.

Many days spent with saws and axes came and went. Then came those with rulers and other instruments of measurement, and those too soon came to pass. And finally, the tiring days spent with hammers and nails. Little by little, starting from the base, to the front steps, to the doors and windows, the pieces of the house started coming together again, and with each new break of day the house bore a stronger resemblance to its past self, just the way she remembered it to be; just the way he remembered it to be.

And when the exterior work had been completed, she occupied herself with the interior repairs of the house, starting from the floor and then the fireplace and then the kitchen, until finally the day came when the house was fully restored back to its original form, as though the rain had been nothing but a harmless nightmare that happened once upon a time, yet never did she ever forget how real it was.

Standing in the hall with her back squarely toward the freshly painted door and with the centerline of her body aligned with the midpoint of the reinforced fireplace, she began to draw a circle with her eyes, double checking and admiring the works of her hands while at the same time, pivoting about the spot where she stood in order to cover all areas of the house’s interior.

Feeling like she had finally fulfilled her promise to him to restore the house back to the way it used to be, she closed her eyes and nodded in acknowledgement of her own accomplishment, hoping with all her heart that he too could see the fruits of her labour, albeit from above. Yet still, there was one thing that had not been restored; a restoration that had in no way been forgotten, but rather, had deliberately been left for last.

In front of the wooden drawer that sat beside her bed she stood, with her head tilted down and her right hand on the rounded handle of the second shelf – the one that played storage to all things impractical but sentimental. Pulling on the latch with nothing more than a gentle tug, the drawer slowly began to slide open, creating a narrow slit through which she could get a glimpse of all the ‘memories’ that slumbered within.

The bright glimmer of the bracelet that could no longer fit her – the one that she used to wear wherever she went in her childhood years; the bunch of dried flowers picked three years ago from the garden outside that she could never, and was still unwilling to discard; just a few examples of the treasured symbols that as always, brought back vivid scenes of the past each time she laid eyes upon them. Yet at that moment, all that she could concentrate on was the unpolished frame that rested unevenly atop the pile of relics.

Lost in a web of thoughts interwoven with memories, she stared at the picture encased in the frame for a brief moment before instinctively stretching out her hand to touch it. Running her fingers gently along the glass panel that protected the photo within before drawing a line sideways to the frame itself, she carefully placed her thumb onto its corner while pressing the rest of her fingers against its underside to secure her grasp.

Cautiously lifting the frame out of the drawer, she drew the fragile memento into her bosom, embracing it like it was all that ever mattered to her, before finally setting it atop the drawer, overlooking the hall, so that she would never ever lose sight of him again.

And as she took a step back from the drawer, with her eyes still focused on the black and white image of him smiling at her, she could not resist returning him an expression of her own, and for the first time since the day that he departed up till now, she finally smiled.

Toward the window she turned, greeting the sunlight that was shining into the house, and with a smile that was even brighter than the day itself, she bade him goodbye and ran out into the beautiful streets of town like a bird of the air that had just had its wings unshackled.

Down the road that ran adjacent to the porch she ran and twirled and skipped, until she came to the meadow that they had once spent so many days together in, and even though he was not physically with her anymore, she knew that he would always be watching over her, and that thought alone was enough to fill her heart with joy and hope that knew no bounds; joy and hope that was sufficient enough for her to carry on.

And day after day, through streets and alleys, across rivers and bridges, atop hills and fields, in churches and cathedrals and into fountains and meadows she ran, and when she could run no more, she jogged, and when she could jog no more, she walked, and when she could walk no more, she strolled with the help of a short wooden cane.

Not a single day went by without her remembering and missing him, but not a dull day did she ever lead because she knew that that would have been what he would have wanted for her. And whenever she needed to feel close to him, a visit to the meadow she would pay, where she could sit alone for hours upon hours, and feel comforted by the memories of the unforgettable times that they shared.

And such a day it was in that beautiful autumn, where upon her rocking chair she sat, enveloped by the warmth of the fireplace upon returning from the meadows after reminiscing and remembering every little detail about him, from the sound of his laughter to the tenderness in his eyes. It was unusual for her to miss him so much even after having spent an afternoon in the meadows, but that thought alone was not enough to stop her from reaching out for the dusty, old frame that had sat atop the drawer by her bed all these years.

Giving a smile that was forged of both joy and sadness, she unsteadily drew a line over the glass that protected the photo within with her quivering, wrinkled fingers before embracing it in the same fashion as she did decades ago with emotions unchanged.

Looking at the memento one last time before placing it securely upon her lap, she finally closed her eyes in search of rest as thoughts of him once again began to turn into dreams …

And slowly but surely, the pauses between each and every one of her heartbeats grew longer and longer, and their echoes, softer and softer, until finally, they could no longer be heard …

---------------------------END -----------------------------------

Endless Rain Chapter 5

There he stood before her, just the way she remembered him to be. Against the backdrop of an ocean of rain that spanned far beyond the reach of her eyes, there he stood before her, in the ash-coloured sweater that she had knitted for him for his most recent birthday, the very same one that he wore each time they went outdoors and into the meadow.

In utter silence, she stared hard into his eyes, a stare which he returned with an expression so genuine, so sincere that it was impossible not to understand the emotions that were coursing through the deepest recesses of his heart.

His slightly furrowed brow so familiar, the one that gave him away each time he was feeling sad, and his lips, subtly pressed together tighter than usual, like how he always used to do whenever he felt sympathy for something or someone; she could read them all as though they were begotten of her own emotions. And there she stood, with her hand in his, perfectly still, incapable of any words or thoughts, and for that moment and that moment alone, it felt like Time had stayed its hand.

Unshifting in his gaze, he gradually loosened his grip on her wrist, and as though knowing that he did not have much time left, whispered a single word into her ear before fully releasing his hand from hers. Like a balloon separated from the hand that holds it grounded to the earth, he began to float into the sky in opposition of the falling rain, and further and further away he started to grow from her.

Still in a state of shock but not wanting to be apart from him again, she began to chase after him, fighting through the torrent which had now grown stronger and more merciless than ever before, with her feet running along the surface of the floodwaters as though it were a mere plane of reinforced glass.

Toward the heavens she stretched out her hands, her fingers begging him not to leave, but no matter how fast she ran or how high she leapt, she could not reach him and was only able to look on powerlessly through blurry eyes as he ascended higher and higher into the clouds until finally, he could no longer be seen.

Crushed by the unbearable sorrow of his inevitable departure, she felt her energy to continue the pursuit quickly fading, consumed by the emotional void that had taken root within her. Like a house built upon shifting sands, she crumbled down atop the waters with both her knees pointing inward, a vivid replica of a doll severed from the strings of its marionette.

With fists clenched so tightly that they began to turn pale from the lack of blood, she gave a loud wail which subdued and echoed over the sound of the roaring rain, and for the first time since she had lost him, the shine of a tear appeared in full at the corner of her eye.

For the heartache of not ever being able to have him by her side anymore, she screamed. For the pain of never being able to hold him in her arms again, she cried. And for all the things that she wanted to say to him but never had a chance to say, she wept.

Streams of tears began to flow forth from her bright, blue eyes, streaking down the sides of her face as she called out into the sky for that which she had always held most dear, and shifting not a single inch from where she sat, on and on she wept like never before in that state of utter brokenness, for no greater pain had she ever known since the day she was born.

Meandering along the skin of her cheeks, her teardrops gracefully trickled their way down to her chin, where momentarily they suspended themselves like stalactites hanging from the inner canopies of a cave before finally falling off her face and into the waves which she so divinely sat above. But in her darkest hour of grief and despair, a miracle beyond her wildest expectations began to unfold before her once again.

As the first of her tears plunged down toward the ocean, skimming the water’s surface, a faint light started to form where both waters met and joined, and as more tears found their way into the ocean of rain, stronger and brighter the light continued to shine and flourish until centred upon her body, a pillar that rose all the way up into the sky it became; a sanctuary of light that enveloped her entire being and shielded her from the storm.

And at that very moment, although she could no longer open her eyes in the midst of the blinding light, she knew with full certainty that an exceptional change had already began to take place with far greater things trailing in its shadow.

Endless Rain Chapter 4

Severed from her will, her physical body was now incapable of moving, but strangely, all manner of sensations could it still feel. Methodically and rhythmically, an icy coldness started to creep its way up her body, rising up to a point and then subsiding slightly before stretching even further up each time; beginning with her toes, and then spreading to her thighs and then to her spine, and wherever the ‘frost’ ascended up to, it replaced the frantic tingle of raindrops that reached down through her garments and unto her skin.

In her imagination, through the eye of her mind, she saw an image of herself from above, as though she were perched atop the rattling roof of the patched-up church, looking down at her very own body, and in that image she saw that the floodwaters had already risen up to her shoulders.

And yet, as though oblivious to the threat of drowning, all she could think of at that moment was how much she missed the blissful days that remained blissful regardless of the weather or the time or the season that she had so happily spent together with him once upon a time.

But short-lived was her dream; her delusion, for then came a pivotal moment that abruptly ended the wanderings of her mind, a turning point that cruelly snatched her back from the sweet escapism of her memories, a wake-up call triggered by the horrifying feeling and reality of suffocation.

The sudden realization that she no longer had access to air brought with it a sense of fear and anxiety so deep that it practically forced her back to consciousness. Eyelids springing open almost instantly, with a wide-eyed stare she struggled to understand the plight that had crept up and surrounded her in the confusion of her sub-consciousness.

An ever-shifting, poorly focused image of the cloudy sky she now beheld, and drawn over it was an unstable, transparent veil of light blue; a veil that was perpetually being decorated by rings of a uniform size appearing and disappearing upon its surface like tiny fireworks erupting across festive skies.

Consciousness and awareness of mind she had regained, but physical mobility and strength of body she had not, and completely submerged, she drifted helplessly mere inches beneath the surface of the floodwaters, with the distance between her and her only hope of survival growing larger and larger as she continued to sink deeper into the unfathomable depths of the sea of rain.

In resignation of her inevitable fate, her panic began to ebb away, displaced by another emotion – one of greater strength, and the look in her eyes, now absent of fear and desperation, softened to reveal the pain and sorrow that had remained hidden all this time from the day of his departure up till now.

Numbed to the physical torture of being on the verge of drowning by the superceding agony of the untreated wounds bleeding on the inside of her broken heart, she once again lay in total surrender to the rain, with her visage tilted up toward the sky and with her hands stretched out in the same manner as one who had just been crucified, but this time, she did not feel the rain beating down upon her skin.

Teetering at the precarious edge of life while leaning toward the uncertainty of what lay beyond, in her final moments she witnessed the approach of the vague shadow of a hand, with palm opened wide and fingers outstretched, plunging down toward her as though being the very hand of Death itself reaching out to claim her weeping soul. Around her wrist it latched on tightly, with a firm yet unexpectedly gently grip, and from out of the floodwaters it drew her up in a single swift and unbroken motion.

As her head emerged through the sparkling ceiling of water, she instinctively took in a huge breath, inhaling so deeply that her shoulders were raised right up next to her chin. Uncontrollably, she continued to gasp for air in between bouts of prolonged coughing, furiously filling her lungs with oxygen while expelling the excessive water that had forcefully flooded its way into her respiratory system.

Leaning forward as though she were on the verge of collapse, with one hand resting heavily just below her collarbone and with her body being held up by the wrist of the other hand, she cleared the water out of her eyes with a hard blink and with face still pointed toward her feet, saw a sight so surreal that it made her unsure of whether her mortal life had already come to an end.

Beneath her soles lay the floodwaters, now towering high above any structure in the town, and still falling from above her was the rain that had not subsided to any lesser a degree, but nonetheless, what she saw amazed her beyond all things thus far, for her feet were set upon the surface of the water as though they were set upon dry, solid land, and upon the face of the water she stood, steady and unwavering like a sturdy ship anchored firmly at port.

In search of an answer to the unexplainable circumstances that she now found herself a part of, she unknowingly raised her head in a quick arch, looking up at whoever or whatever had rescued her from the abysmal depths of the deluge, but what she saw upon doing so was in no way an answer, but rather the start of many more questions.

Endless Rain Chapter 3

Waist deep in the rising floodwaters, she waded her way frantically through the partially submerged town in search of higher ground, but to no avail. All she could see in front of her then were rows and rows of houses, just like her own, slowly disappearing from the bottom up as the water levels continued to ascend.

Deep inside her mind, she knew that if things were to continue as they were, she would soon have to swim to keep herself above the water surface; a thought which compounded the weight of the fear that was already bearing down upon her racing heart, for far was she from being an adept in water.

But in her state of worsening panic, a familiar scene she suddenly recalled. A scene of many colours splashed across a canvas of stone and grass, one of tiled roofs, and chimneys and wind vanes that twirled ever so freely in the changing winds. It was the town as seen from above, from a place of higher altitude that made the lawns and houses look like miniatures in a toy shop.

It was the view of the town that she had seen from atop the hill, where the old rustic church stood humbly against the backdrop of the majestic sky. And now, that old rustic church was the only refuge that she could think of, for having been born and raised in the town all her years, she knew that there was nothing else in the vicinity that was taller than the cross that sat above the stained glass windows, glimmering like the inside of a kaleidoscope on the roof of the house of the Most High.

Pressing forward through the storm with all the strength she could muster, she made her way without a single moment of rest through the canals that now ran between the town structures in place of the lanes and cobbled stone roads. Across the flooded city square she traversed, where she was met midway at the weathered fountain by the unsettling sight of a faintly blue flower head, falling lifelessly from one side to another in accordance with the movements of the undercurrents amidst the yellow stone base of the fountain.

Fearing that the same misfortune that had befallen the flower would come to claim her next, she further quickened her pace for the remainder of the journey and eventually arrived at the foot of the hill amidst waters that reached right up to the bottom of her chin.

Desperately filling her lungs through short, shallow breaths, her hands, driven by the primal fear of her nose and mouth being submerged, quickly latched themselves onto the grassy slopes of the hill, which she then used to pull herself up and out of the merciless grasp of the fast rising waters, albeit with much difficulty.

Stumbling up the hill on legs aching and unsteady from overexertion, she found it nothing short of impossible to keep herself from slipping as she made her ascent up the lush, green slopes, which although were not of steep incline, had now become excessively slippery with a gigantic web of little streams running down along them in all directions.

But still she did not resign to her fate and continued to flee from the roaring waters that adamantly chased behind her. Toward the church she climbed and climbed, her momentum constantly broken by slips and falls along the way, and when she could climb no more, she began to crawl, but still the endless rain did not relent and instead, grew unimaginably stronger and heavier.

As she drew closer and closer to the unmistakable silhouette of the cross atop the church, the environment around her started to break up into darkened shapes, swirling into a convoluted array of green, grey and black. Her head was heavy one second and light the next, and her skin a ghastly shade of white that contrasted with the drenched, black garments that shrouded her cold, quivering body. Instinctively, she resisted the darkness that was closing in from the edges of her sight and continued to crawl and crawl until eventually, she found herself at the back of the overshadowed abbey.

Her body had reached its limit. A single arm’s length away from his gravestone she laid, paralyzed both physically and mentally, and as she reached toward that which stood deeply rooted in the ground in memory of him, her eyelids grew heavier and heavier till they became too heavy for her to keep from closing, and into the darkness she slipped for resist it no more was she able to do.

Endless Rain Chapter 2

As the chimes of the clock hanging on the wall sang to welcome the hour of midnight, there she sat in front of the crackling fireplace with both knees close to her chest and a black hand-knitted blanket draped over her shoulders with its edges overlapping in front of her, covering a great deal of her body from the neck down.

Blankly, she gazed into the heart of the fire where the charred wood was gradually being consumed to keep the fire from burning out, but the warmth it emitted was barely enough to keep her body from shivering under the layers of cloth that she had already cocooned herself in.

The sounds of the rain lingered on persistently, finding their way into the house through closed doors and windows left ajar, and despite having been ongoing since the early afternoon of the day, showed no signs of relent or retreat. Rising up from the floor with blanket still held fast around her petite physique, she shuffled in the midst of her shivering toward the old wooden bed at the corner of the room.

Back toward the wall, she lowered herself to sit on the edge of the bed in preparation to lie down, but had her initial intentions abruptly disrupted as she unsuspectingly turned her eyes toward the dusty frame that rested atop the small drawers beside the head of the bed.

It had been taken two years ago, in the meadow mere minutes down the street that ran adjacent to the front porch of her house. And though the shadows that were cast about on the inner walls of the room obscured most of the memento including their faces, she had previously spent enough time looking at it for a mere glimpse of the corner of the self-decorated frame to be enough to bring to mind the full image of its contents in vivid detail.

Scenes of the past started to flow through her mind uninvited and uncontrollably, but their allure was hard to refuse and she soon found herself wishing once again for a time that she could no longer return to. Her awareness of the futility of such thoughts guided her hand steadily forward to seize the shade-covered frame, and without looking directly at it, led her to pull open the drawer that lay beneath, wherein she gently placed the frame out of her line of vision, in the very same drawer that stored some of the things that she had kept from long ago but had no longer any use for.

Slowly with her fingertips, she pushed against the front of the open drawer till she heard the soft thud of wood colliding against wood, and after a short pause, lifted her hands off the surface of the drawer before she raised her legs unto the bed to lie down with her face toward the wall. For the first time since that fateful day, her eyes glimmered with sadness, but only for a brief second, for shortly after she closed them in search of slumber and rest which she did not find till the early hours of the next morning.

An entire day slipped her by while she lay in bed asleep, and then another while she lay awake, but still she found herself unwilling to draw away from the solace provided to her by the sheets on which his familiar scent did faintly remain.

Lacking the will and necessity for any other action, she had every reason and intention to stay in bed indefinitely; every reason except that her body was still one of flesh and blood, one that was incapable of surviving in the absence of all else but sleep and air, one that was now violently making its needs for sustenance and nourishment known.

A burning sensation gushed up within her from the centre of her being, tearing first through her chest and then her throat and then almost right up into her mouth before it started to make its way back down toward the depths of her deprived stomach. The hunger was unbearable and she cringed as she forced herself up off her back in preparation of finding her way to the kitchen in search of something that was still edible, if even barely so.

The frigid sensation that soon met with her feet was one that she had not expected. Instead of the high pitched voice of the creaky wooden floor that she had long grown accustomed to listening out for in the mornings, she heard nothing but a deep toned splash coming from beneath as her feet sank unsuspectingly into a thick, seemingly stagnant layer of liquid.

Eyes widened by both the cold and the unexpected, she peered over the edge of the bed and gasped at what she saw. The sudden realization that the sound of the rain which was still ongoing at that time, had not for once subsided throughout her days of inactivity then came crashing down upon her.

Flustered and overwhelmed by anxiety, she leapt off the bed and into the flood waters that rose up to the middle of her calves. In a swift and uninterrupted stroke of her arm, she grabbed a coat which she could use to protect herself with from the piercing winds and ran toward the front door of her house, her steps higher than usual in an effort to overcome the resistance that the water was persistently imposing upon her movements.

Panting and short of breath, she lunged forward to grab hold of the rusty doorknob with a single hand, but in a moment of hesitation, was compelled to turn back to look at the drawer in which she had placed the memory of him and her mere nights ago. The water was entering into the house at a faster rate than ever, and as fear got the better of her, she abandoned the thought of going back to retrieve the memento and pulled open the door, leaning back and leveraging upon all her body weight to overcome the waters that were in opposition of everything that she was now trying to do.

When she had created an opening big enough for herself to fit through, she squeezed her way out into the streets of town, but those too had also been submerged and the rain continued to fall from the sky above, slowly consuming all that was upon the land below.

Endless Rain Chapter 1

Endless Rain

And slowly but surely, the pauses between each and every one of his heartbeats grew longer and longer, and their echoes, softer and softer, until finally, they could no longer be heard …

Like a quick flash of light, a mere lapse in time did it seem from the moment his heart became silent to the moment she was now encased in. Under overcast skies, with a veil gently caressing her face each time a breeze passed her by, there she stood silently at the back of the church, in front of the newly erected gravestone in memory of what now lay beneath the layers of dirt and soil.

Her face wore no emotion, with neither the hint of a frown on the edge of her lips nor the sparkle of a tear in her eyes. Downward she gazed, as though looking out toward the horizon far beyond the open sea, except that present before her was nothing but earth and grass within the grasp of her fingers if she were only to care enough to kneel down to reach for them.

As groans of thunder began to echo toward her from distant skies, she bade him farewell and turned toward the same path that she had taken earlier on during her ascent up the grass-adorned hill. The black edges of her gown fluttered in the wind like the wings of a raven in flight as she made her solemn descent back down toward the town below.

Through quiet alleys and cobbled-stone streets she wandered, void of conscious purpose but subconsciously in the general pull of her home. So deep in thought was she that her senses were unnaturally late in realizing the drastic change in the atmosphere that had already occurred midway through her aimless journey.

One by one, on the ground all around, a collage of darkened spots had began to form, threatening to overshadow it entirely in due time. A sudden and ominous howl of wind was what was necessary to bring her back to her senses, at least momentarily, and without the slightest display of anxiety or worry, she readied her umbrella in her own time.

Hands moving instinctively in opposite directions, with her right hand on the lacquered wood curved handle and her left beneath the intricate ring of spokes hidden out of view, she raised the umbrella up toward the sky and opened it. As the dull sound of liquid drops dancing on the parchment canopy overhead reached her ears, she was finally able to register in her mind the identity of the curtain of water that had lowered from the skies, imposing itself upon her view of the surroundings. It had begun to rain.

Footstep after footstep, with soles continuously breaking up the surfaces of shallow puddles, she walked on and on and unknowingly found herself in the vast emptiness of the city plaza, where a dried up fountain stood in the middle of the square, surrounded by walls of individually distinct buildings in all four directions.

The fountain had been inactive for as long as she could remember, and indifferent of it had she since grown from the many times that she had walked by it, yet as she looked at it once again, an unexplainable connection to it there now was; one that she had never felt before.

Toward the fountain she slowly drifted, and to her slight puzzlement, an unexpected flash of blue amidst the yellow aged stones of the fountain’s base was there to meet her eyes when she finally did arrive at the edge of the lifeless structure.

On the verge of wither, its sun-scorched petals began to sway as they came into contact with the falling drops of water, and as those drops grew heavier and more frequent, its slender stem, ever more vigorously, oscillated from side to side, creating a paradoxically lively display of the faded shades of blue and green. Its jubilance was obvious and many long days must it have endured while in want of any nourishment from the silver skies above. With face unchanged, she continued to stare while the once faded beauty of the flower began to be restored before her very eyes.

Subtly and silently, her fingers slowly loosened the firm grip they had on the wavering stem of her source of shelter, and before long, uncoiled themselves totally, in perfect unison of one another, abandoning that which she had defended herself from the elements with up until now.

Floating away on the frivolous currents of the wind, her umbrella took flight almost immediately upon leaving her hands, drifting slightly higher into the air for a short while before cascading down into an earthbound trajectory, where after it reached the ground, pirouetted like a young ballerina with hands outstretched for a few times before finally coming to rest about a yard away.

Without hesitation, the rain enveloped her, dousing her from the top of her head to the tip of her toes. A flurry of splashes erupted from the edges of her smooth, youthful skin, with thousands upon thousands of raindrops greeting her into their presence simultaneously and continuously.

Her palms, held out just a short distance away from her hips, were facing skyward in total surrender, and her neck, arched slightly backward, tilted her visage upward in perfect alignment to meet the rain face to face. And there she stood, in that manner with almost no other movement throughout the course of the entire evening.