A million Raindrops

March 7, 2009
By pkcPKC SILVER, Maple Ridge, Other
pkcPKC SILVER, Maple Ridge, Other
9 articles 0 photos 5 comments

Favorite Quote:
Believe nothing, no matter where you read it, or who said it, no matter if I have said it, unless it agrees with your own reason and your own common sense.

Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned.

The whole secret of existence is to have no fear. Never fear what will become of you, depend on no one. Only the moment you reject all help are you freed.

Never apologize for showing feeling. When you do so, you apologize for the truth. ~Benjamin Disraeli

Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind. ~Dr. Seuss

Confidence comes not from always being right but from not fearing to be wrong. ~Peter T. Mcintyre

The rumbling drops of water hurtled themselves violently at the window, thousands of tiny specks forming a single, blurring sheet of water that ran down the glass like a river. The grey clouds looked angrier when placed in front of a fevered black sky, and their rolls of echoing thunder and flashes of lighting terrified me. But the dull pitter-patter was oddly comforting, as my eyes, wide open in the dark, waited for sleep to droop my lids. The lightning was a pale white and yellow, this skeletal thing flashing down from the sky in a jagged motion, as if its destruction wasn’t enough to terrify. The thunder roared and growled, a sound that ripped from the chest of the clouds, like an aggravated wolf. It had so much life and emotion; it was hard to believe that the sky was not alive. The lightning its weapon, the thunder it’s anger, the rain its tears and the clouds its body. And it roamed the sky, gathering herds of straying clouds as its army, waiting to ambush towns and cities with its dull roaring and fiery flashes. The drops of water fell and splattered, as if committing suicide by jumping in the billions from the sky. Or perhaps they were trying to find a way home, back to the sandy confines of the ocean. Another peal of gristly thunder raised the hair on the back of my neck, as I shivered. My body was buried in layer after layer of blanket and quilt, yet I managed to feel cold wind in my darkened room. *Flash* Another shot of lightning illuminated my room for a quarter second, as if someone had flicked the lights on then off to annoy me. It was impossible to sleep in these conditions. Between the bright, brief flashes of light, to the loud, long growls of storm, I couldn’t slumber. Then, over time, the storm ‘died’. The rumbles dulled and the flashes tormented others elsewhere, and the sky would clear eventually. But a million raindrops knocked on my window, and waited for me in my sleep. A million raindrops sung me a lullaby and put me to sleep. And a million raindrops left my door to try somewhere else, and by that time, I was asleep.

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