I could smell petrichor.. The harsh rain that had belted down on the tarmac had left it moist. A dark feeling loomed over me, like a rain-cloud that never seemed to leave me or atleast shrink in size for a few moments.. All week I had felt lethargic, restless and barely able to go a few hours without needing a nap. Since it was January, and still in a winter period. It appeared to get dimmer far faster than I had expected. It was only 6:50pm and the sky was stygian black. Filled with ashy clouds that were fading into the night. I like to believe the weather has an effect on how I feel, more so that I can excuse my violent outbursts and seemingly never ending spouts of depression.Or maybe it was just madness. Maybe I had truly gone insane and there was no hope for me. There's 365 days in a year and 182.5 of them I am in pure agony.I could hear a desolate hum of a street lamp a few meters away from me, it's hue coating the pavement beneath it in a Xanthos yellow. It made me feel warm inside.Like I had finally found tranquillity. Like the raging storm inside my head had calmed and the sun was able to beam bright through the aftermath.
