She was walking home only because the rain had let up slightly.
Halfway through and with nowhere to hide, it began to pour; one step short of running, she felt as grey as the damned weather.
The rejected rain, in conspiracy with gravity, pushed a lock of hair into her face. Forgoing the satisfaction of annoyance, she instinctively caught it in her mouth, like she always would as a child, and fed herself with raindrops delivered straight to her lips.
Such a familiar taste, such a familiar everything, although it really had been years!
Overwhelmed with nostalgia, reminded of a time she'd all but forgotten, and at last transported to this faraway place, she stopped her resentful journey. Instead, she made a wish.
She wished on every drop of rain that she'd never again forget to fall in love with a storm.
And then she walked home as slowly as she could, pretending that home was a million miles away.
From the heart, so real and so true. ......and then I heard the gate, and beheld a drenched Rett in need of a towel.
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