The Drizzle And The Leaf

One morning, clouds calmly wandering around the skies, sunlight peeping through empty spaces, wind dancing between the melody of the cities and the silence of heavens, there was a tiny cloud of fog that travels with its other beings. Together, they roamed the surface of the lands, climbed the faces of mountains and soared higher than the heavens.

Life was pretty simple along the way.

The fog passed above skycrapers, listening to the ensemble of cars, buildings, human voices, and chirping of birds.

It goes above oceans, seeing graceful mammals gallop along the cheeks of water, diving and rising.

After a long time of gliding across the blue canvas, they came to a stop, to a place where the sun has graved its anger and vengeance.

The land was a city, but it was too dry to consider it amazing.

By that time, the fog was dark with its hidden anger.

The energy of the winds grew stronger, as if a superhuman destroying iron hard bricks.

And when the fog couldn't hold on to its body, the fog gave up, and fell.

Drops of drizzles were born.

One of the drops is unique than the others. No, it doesn't have eyes nor arms, but it has a mind.

It has feelings.

Human emotions.

It glided and waltzed between the city and the heavens.

At first, it was very happy, happy to be born and to fly with freedom with the winds.

Its bliss has never been topped off by anyone.

Or anything.

But as soon as it was close to the ground,it heard millions of painful voices.

Voices.

Screaming.

Pain.

It has no eyes nor ears, but it can see and hear.

And that moment, it was witnessing millions or rather billions of death.

And that was the point of time that fear grew within it.

It was hoping, that it  wouldn't die as the others did.

And it got lucky.

It landed into a leaf.

A fresh, viridian leaf.

The drop of drizzle was way happier than any kid receiving gifts during Christmas or birthdays.

As the moment passed, seconds walking around the clock, the wind blew hard.

The sun rose up high and showed no mercy.

And the drop of drizzle starts dripping.

It is slipping through the palm of the leaf.

The wind shook the leaf, harder and harder.

It showed no mercy to the leaf.

The begging of the drop of drizzle for mercy intensified.

It wanted to cry, to flood its tears, but it itself was already similar to a droplet of tear.

"Please, please don't let go of me!"

"I want to help, but honestly, there's  nothing more I can do."