rainy.

r a i n y [All Rights Reserved]

Rain is grace; rain is the sky descending to the earth; without rain, there would be no life.

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Plop. Plip. Plop. Plip. Plop. Plip. Plop.

The water continued fall, with the rhythm of nature.

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It was depressing outside, with grey to black clouds covering the sun and sky, and the steady rain continued. Although it was dreary, it had its own magic to it.

The rain had its own beat, and the clouds seemed as if they were painted very carefully. The thunder clapped in time with the rain and the lightning gave the dark sky a little life every now and then.

The roads were empty. It was, as if no one was in the area to experience this image. Maybe they were at home, cozy and warm, with a cup of hot chocolate or coffee. Or maybe they were at work, trying to stay awake on the dreary day so they can accomplish something. They may be at school, some trying to stay calm and brave as the thunder crackled in the sky ferociously, while others jittery and excited as the rain fell, wanting to play in the drops that would be falling outside.

But one girl was in a coffee shop, and she didn't seem to mind the rain, no, not at all. Engulfed into a book, she didn't even thank the waiter who had just brought her some hot chocolate to warm her up on this rainy day.

She would read a book, any book that she had with her at the time, page after page, and once the book was done, she would close the book, and stare into space for a few minutes. Maybe wondering if life would've been like that for someone. Or even thinking it was a great story and nothing more. After her space out, she would then open the book again, back to the beginning and be engulfed into the story again.

No one knew about her in this small town; not about her friends or family whom she never described; not about her habits that were hard to pick up; not about her house on the little end of the desolate street that no one visited. It was like she was just there, not to be noticed or befriended. Just there. Maybe the only thing that was known, was her age. She was around twenty-three, but even then, people weren't sure.

Not even the waiters at the small coffee shop, who saw her the same time, everyday, picked up any information about her, although for them, she was the gossip of the day, everyday.

They would talk about her unusual bright curly fiery hair, or how she wore clothes that didn't seem to fit in with the surroundings around her, or her bright grey eyes that saw through you when she ordered something off the menu, or her squeaky giggles while she was reading a novel, or how she talked to herself when she was spacing out after she read, or just her in whole. And then, they would be surprised that she was so unknown. That she was so invisible, even though she stood out like a sore thumb.

Most likely, she was alone in this town and her only friends were the books and characters from these books, she read at the coffee shop. Maybe you can count the waiters as acquaintances who gave a polite 'Hello, how are you today Emily, would you like the usual?' but nothing more.

Today, she brought The Fault In Our Stars, which was one of those cute novels about a girl and a boy who fell in love with each other as the story went on. But as in many novels, especially in John Green's, its ending was sad with a touch of beautiful.

'Bittersweet,' Emily muttered to herself as she drank the hot chocolate on her table. As the creamy drink reached her mouth, she closed her eyes, enjoying the fluffiness of the warmth. She heard the subtly noticeable splashes of the rain outside and took in this soothing noise.