As I was at the terrace, I was looking at those people who passed by, or just merely those people my eyes can reach from where I was standing. I saw two kids, a girl who's elder than the other one who's a boy. They were running under the cold and heavy rain. And I saw them smiling while they played, unconscious of the possibility that they might get ill. There were three other young man who stayed under an old house trying not to get wet, waiting for the rain to stop for them to get home, or to their friend's house, or to the internet cafe, or to a place which only them can tell. Then, across the main street, there were two motorcycles, still. And near them was a man and a couple. Maybe these two group of individuals came from different part of this small town, or they could be from different towns, unknowing of each other's existence, but the rain made their path's crossed even for just a few moment. And after that short moment, they could either be new acquaintances or remain strangers. I saw another motorcyclist, still driving under the rain. Maybe he can no longer wait for the rain to stop and chose to drive though he'll get wet for him to get home earlier. Lastly, I noticed a man who might be in his late 50s who was walking under the rain, wet. He was bringing a cellophane which I think contain the dinner he just bought after he has worked the whole day. My heart ached as I witnessed that scenario. For how cruel the rain was to him. How cruel it was to his old and tired body. The rain is just a thing, a non-living one, but could affect different persons' lives in different ways.
stormborns
yousharknotpass
ellievsbear
areudirty
prguitarman
2087
annaxmalina
kianamaiart
