The calm sensation of water soothes me. As it trickled down my legs it reminded me of blood pouring from an unnoticed cut. It didn't hurt, but you could still feel it... strange... In all honesty, if I keep walking in the rain like this I'm going to get sick... that's what my aunt says. My mother used to call me a rain walker, she said she was one too... I didn't understand what that meant. Maybe I do now. As I walk in the rain, I notice how many people carry umbrellas with them. I notice how prepared all these people are... It's weird to think about. It's weird to think about a lot of stuff though. Like how humans are the smartest creatures on this planet, and how scary that can be. All of this knowledge... Maybe animals are actually the smart ones. Brilliant animals... I bump into some tall man. He stares at me weirdly and then keeps walking. He looks like a rain walker too... Something about how he looks when he doesn't walk with an umbrella, and his dazed expression... He pulls his hoodie up. Correction... he is a rain walker, but he doesn't want to be one. It's okay though. It's kind of hard to live this kind of life... Constantly lost in your own mind... A couple lucky individuals that got picked to persistently seek out their deepest thoughts, or overthink every noise and color, or to simply stare and create art... Poor man. Poor deep man that I will never meet. I should at least give him a name... he has a happy face... Randy. His name, would be Randy. Randy the unfortunate rain walker. I wondered if Randy thought about how many people carried umbrellas also. What did his voice sound like? Low and rough. Too rough. Rough enough to where it's slightly annoying to hear. And he would have the slightest country accent... Yes, that would go nicely with his stubble and height. All he needed was the hat. I sat down at a bus station to adjust my shoe. A women was trying to silence her baby, who was currently crying over something. The women seemed tired... She used to be a rainwalker... Her hair used to be in the curly, untamed state it is because she wanted it to be that way... Now it was because she didn't have the time to fix it. The baby wouldn't be a rainwalker... No one in her family would be... Her name could be Lily, to go with the lily's on her shirt. As I adjust my soggy shoes, I silently bid my farewell to Lily and her baby. Now I am strolling along again. I see a very pretty young women before me. She has long blonde hair and a mischievous smile. Her name can be Lorra. Lorra won't stay in this world for long.... I can't tell what she is... Either way, rainwalker or not... She was special. And this is how it continues. I walk, I listen, and I watch. All with a mind full of thoughts, and a soul so deep it's scary.
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The Author's Stories
Short StoryThis is a collection of short stories I've written that I decided I wanted to share. Most of these are angst. They aren't connected, I wrote almost all of them individually except the Stage stories.
