..She walked past the wet road holding her broken sandals over her left shoulder. A rose gently, tugged in her palm, swayed as she tip toed over the moist concrete.
Wet soil kissed her heels and some of it dared to caress her intricately bruised ankles.
Fear is a complement to courage. Both must be kept parallel or else they ruin each other and end in cowardice.
Like all the weighed emotions, she kept both, fear and courage. Thought the later one was more likely to be observed in her. Her Raging courage.
He ran after her to meet her steps.
'Rain is to poets as Beauty is to love.' He exclaimed in a melody.
She smiled tiredly.
'I fear it. I fear rain.'
'Hmm?'
He turned his face to her side.
'When they shower you this much life, they are about to kill you. It's like how sweetly we treat a lamb before the grand slaying.'
She sighed.
'I fear that amongst these tickling rain drops, a thunderstorm is keeping an eye on me. It will burn me to ashes whenever it finds a chance. I fear that chance is absolute and so near.' She drooped her eyes to the rain-bathed road.
She was afraid of rain for it rusted her ductility more than it washed the filth off her breathes.
They walked in silence and for the first time, he craved to walk like this with her for the rest of his life.
Rainy, December nights had always been this brutal.
