The puddles bounced the light raindrops, letting the watery surface wrinkle to their touch. It was either early morning or late noon; the memory of the blue purple haze became undistinguishable in her mind. But the silence, the feeling of isolated calmness remained in her mind for years after that day. She let herself remember sometimes, and when she did she felt a piercing wind shake her bones.
Her naive curiosity had led her to such incomprehensible actions. She followed it without precautions until that day. The remains of the harsh rain she had heard from inside now laid on the ground, forming bodies of shallow puddles which reflected everything above. It was as if two worlds separated themselves through the blue door she had decided to cross for a breath of fresh air. Her naked wet feet led her to the nearest reflection of herself. She stood next to the puddle, looking at her own blurry image be distorted with every landing drop of rain. They seemed so strange to her, the raindrops, as if they were teasing her by blocking what she thought was the real image of herself. But she still felt them land on her bare shoulders, slowly dripping. They were comforting in a way, stroking wet her skin. She felt surrendered to their revelations and with trust let her surroundings guide her into the realisation that would instantly change her life.
Every step she had taken to arrive to that specific moment, every decision she had chosen, every possibility she had rejected. Curiosity might have been her guider and the biggest reason why she was standing in her gala dress outside the emergency exit of that building. It was that same familiar place where she would spend hours searching for that man which seemed profitable enough to spend the night with. It was the freedom she had once thought it gave her. But that instant in which the raindrops became her only reassurance, she instinctively ripped off the dress which she had been given.
The wind pinched her skin as it went by, emphasizing the cold in wetness of her body. It was clear to her now, after years, that she had lost all saneness in that moment. She stood there until the night’s darkness hid her reflection in the water. Yet those hours which she had spent immobile had stripped her naked from what she had been hiding: The guilt, the regret and the necessity of any kind of security. The rain brought down with it a new perspective for her to absorb, and washed away her old self. There was no need to pity her past and excuse it with unreasonable actions. Her distorted reflection had for once made her see the beautiful soul which only raindrops could expose.
She still remembers now, as she walked away in the night with a blank canvas in her mind. She remembers the muted lonely trance with which she was left after, never feeling as reassured of the person who she knew she could now become. Looking up and thanking the sky, she knew she had been reborn with the help of every raindrop.
Her naive curiosity had led her to such incomprehensible actions. She followed it without precautions until that day. The remains of the harsh rain she had heard from inside now laid on the ground, forming bodies of shallow puddles which reflected everything above. It was as if two worlds separated themselves through the blue door she had decided to cross for a breath of fresh air. Her naked wet feet led her to the nearest reflection of herself. She stood next to the puddle, looking at her own blurry image be distorted with every landing drop of rain. They seemed so strange to her, the raindrops, as if they were teasing her by blocking what she thought was the real image of herself. But she still felt them land on her bare shoulders, slowly dripping. They were comforting in a way, stroking wet her skin. She felt surrendered to their revelations and with trust let her surroundings guide her into the realisation that would instantly change her life.
Every step she had taken to arrive to that specific moment, every decision she had chosen, every possibility she had rejected. Curiosity might have been her guider and the biggest reason why she was standing in her gala dress outside the emergency exit of that building. It was that same familiar place where she would spend hours searching for that man which seemed profitable enough to spend the night with. It was the freedom she had once thought it gave her. But that instant in which the raindrops became her only reassurance, she instinctively ripped off the dress which she had been given.
The wind pinched her skin as it went by, emphasizing the cold in wetness of her body. It was clear to her now, after years, that she had lost all saneness in that moment. She stood there until the night’s darkness hid her reflection in the water. Yet those hours which she had spent immobile had stripped her naked from what she had been hiding: The guilt, the regret and the necessity of any kind of security. The rain brought down with it a new perspective for her to absorb, and washed away her old self. There was no need to pity her past and excuse it with unreasonable actions. Her distorted reflection had for once made her see the beautiful soul which only raindrops could expose.
She still remembers now, as she walked away in the night with a blank canvas in her mind. She remembers the muted lonely trance with which she was left after, never feeling as reassured of the person who she knew she could now become. Looking up and thanking the sky, she knew she had been reborn with the help of every raindrop.
