Writing Playground

11. Rainy Autumn

Fandom: no fandom (Persona 5 if you squint)
Tag(s): description heavy, no names (post-canon for the fans in the back)

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It was raining heavily that afternoon, raindrops thundering on rooftops like the sound of a stampede of wild horses. The wind was howling like wolves at full moon, almost forcing the villagers to barricade their homes in fear of larger things crossing their windows or skulls. No one was foolish enough to go outside in this weather, all except one.

On a vacant bus stop sat a teenager in an obnoxiously yellow raincoat with the hood up, rubber boots dirty with mud. In his right arm he carried a poncho of his own creation carelessly folded to not fall on the muddy ground. His eyes wandered around his surrounding, idly scratching his neck with his left hand. Just across the street are radish fields stretching slightly less than a mile in length, where they met the orange and red trees in the distance. Behind him was where the houses and buildings lay, scattered in a reasonable distance away from each other to give room for gardens and backyards.

To his right was a playground, with slides, swings, sandboxes and a wooden climbing frame for toddlers. Some broken toys and abandoned ones were buried in the soaked sand, and a teddy bear without eyes was tossed beside the swings. He thought he recognized the Russian doll with dulled colors, but made no move to confirm his suspicions.

He scratched his neck again and impatiently tapped his foot on the ground. The bus stop itself was made of steel and glass, with the exception of the soaked fliers taped on the glass and the rotten bench made of oak. The rain still got under the metal top, and it sounded like hail as it thundered on it.

He hugged himself, bringing the poncho closer to his chest, as he watched autumn leaves and plastic bags fly before him. A hot pink flier with a picture of a lost dog fell on the ground next to him, the water dissolving the tape that kept it stuck. He leaned down to crumple it with his free hand before stuffing it in his pocket, aware of the fact that the dog was already found and that the owner was a tad lazy.

A bright light from his right shone on the glass, and he winced as it hit his eyes. The familiar old two-colored bus screeched to a halt in front of him. The door opened.

"Welcome to the countryside."

"What are you wearing, man? You look brighter than a lighthouse in that!"

"It's a raincoat. Was about to lend you my poncho, but I don't think you would like to look like a plastic bag."

"Dude, I'm wearing a t-shirt!"

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I don't know what I want with this. Btw I had a crisis which led to no updates here. Nothing big, just-

Soul crushing and life re-evaluating.

.demondaughter21