the rain creates a certain ambience
brings a sense of peace.
but too much rain is never good for you;
what happens if you start drowning?
a small dip in the ground; the rain starts to accumulate
turning into a puddle, a pond, eventually a lake.
afte...
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"when's the last time you painted, elle?" johnny asked ellie, swinging lazily on the tire swing in her yard. dallas had gotten himself landed in the cooler again, and ponyboy was busy with track. so when his parents kicked him out, ellie happily invited johnny over. she enjoyed his company.
she looked up from her notebook, and smiled. the weather was slowly but surely starting to get warmer, and ellie loved it. the cold was never her cup of tea; it was too sharp, too violent.
lifting up her hand, she sighed. "i dunno if you've noticed, johnnycake, but my hands are in no condition for any type of artwork. besides, i think it's nice to take a break from it," she shrugged.
johnny squinted in the sunlight, noticing how, despite her injuries, she was still able to do tasks like journaling. "you're writin'," he pointed out quietly.
"no i'm not," ellie said, her voice equally as soft. she ran her fingertips over the pages smudged with pencil lead and the words smeared with black and blue ink. "i'm revisiting my old thoughts."
"hm," johnny hummed thoughtfully. "you mind sharin' some? i understand if ya don't, but i've always wondered what goes on in your head."
ellie smiled at the slightly older boy. "is that good or bad? well, i guess it shouldn't matter. but i do tell you what goes on in my head, johnny. especially the more poetic aspects. you're a good listener."
johnny planted his feet in the dirt patch underneath the tire, steadying the swing. "you're a good listener, too, ellie—probably better than me. could be why you're so much smarter," he shrugged, his statement prompting ellie to frown. "but i mean the stuff you keep to yourself. i know it's deeper than you let on."
ellie sighed. "well, first of all, you're very smart, johnny. just cause school isn't your strongest suit don't mean nothing. the system is unscrupulous. second—"
"unscrupulous?"
"unfair. second, all my writing's just a bunch of bull. but i guess i can read you a few pieces..." she said, flipping through the slightly wrinkled pages.
'scanning the field, looking for new beauties to add to the arrangement you show everyone who sees the true picture within, a painting you create with ease all to repeat it all again, while the floret waits as time ticks impatiently you continue to overlook what sits in front of you'
johnny listened intently as ellie recited her poem, the words hanging in the air like a gentle breeze. he could feel the depth of her emotions woven into the lines, the subtle layers of meaning that went beyond the surface.
"that's really somethin', ellie," johnny commented, his eyes reflecting genuine appreciation. "you got a way with words."
ellie smiled, a mix of gratitude and humility. "thanks, johnny. it's just something i do to clear my head, you know? writing helps me make sense of things."
