𝓝𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓟𝓸𝓮𝓽𝓻𝔂

𝚁𝚊𝚒𝚗

There had been a storm the night before, so everyone decided to stay inside for that time, winding down to the sound of droplets tapping madly against their windows.

The following night was chilly and quiet, the damp roads were bathed in a soft, fiery glow from the streetlights above them.

You could hear the faint hum of cars, whizzing by on the highway, their tires ripping through puddles, sending murky water flying for a moment, just to land back on the gravel with a splash.

The air smelled of cigarette smoke and wet leaves, and everyone in town could hear that faint rumble of lightning coming from the dark, cloudy horizon. A brief moment of silence followed by glass windows being closed once more, preparing for another storm.

Another morning of storms, another night of rainy stillness...