The distant floating opaque greyish skeins moves high across the sky, burdened with rain. And rain falls and falls, onto Earth's skins, clothed with buildings and roads. And I smell, the saccharine scent of the rain, the aroma slip through my nose for every bits of raindrops around me. It reminded me of my childhood, of sliding down a tunnel in the playground still planted with the clouds' tears, and wetting my pants in the process. It reminded me of things way back in the past, sending me through a dreamy, nostalgic state, wishing I could experience them again.
The smell of rain doesn't make me feel sad, but a sort of joy through childhood, when we couldn't go outside because it was raining, and had nothing to do so we would gaze at the rain through an open window and smell it. When the heavy clouds producing the rain had gone away, stepping outside on the wet road, darkened, shiny grasses but also pretty muddy, running to our local playground. I had a good childhood. Hopefully I won't forget them, or adulthood will enslave me, kill me.
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Very Short Stories
Historia CortaI am very new to writing, so expect some mistakes! In here, I will publish short stories of my own. Variety of themes, all sort of randomness. The cover is from a pinterest post.
