Do you ever just lay in bed awake at night, listening to the quiet beating of your own heart? Attentively listening to your gentle breath; as it hurts to inhale and exhale, while you fight back the tears? Have you noticed how beautiful it is to cry in the rain? When eagerly you're questioned as to why your eyes have become so sunken into you head and become so blood-shot and sore looking?
As you lay in the silence do you ever wish to venture through the rain bare-foot? or would that just be something both my grandmother and I had in common? To feel the cool rain droplets against your skin is almost therapeutic.
When you gaze at the moon does she cackle at you like a distant dream? Or is this merely my imagination? There are reasons why I have become fascinated by the moon as I grew slowly into my teenage years, reasons being;
She never asks questions nor does she beg for the answers, I have never had to prove myself to her. She was exactly like me, she was just there- breathing, shining and in most ways humans can't; listening.
YOU ARE READING
Reasons Why?
ContoI'm considering doing a series of short stories but I'm not entirely sure of whether or not I will or where it will take me. Here is a brief story I've written back in September, for English.
