The storm is over

Clouds become heavy, skies become dark.
Little droplets descending, hit the ground and break free.
More and more join the first and soon they are indistinguishable, moulding and becoming one.
Animals run to find shelter, plants breathe a sigh of relief as they soak up the glistening spheres of moisture and all their goodness.

Heavy now...

As humans run, it hits them like arrows, wounding.

Heavier...

Now like sheets, penetrating even the most remote. Voices of thunder.
They scream as they make contact with the hard concrete and burst, creating tiny tremors.

The storm slows and the wind carries them.

Gentler...

The moisture feels pleasant against frowning faces.
The sun comes out and banishes any memory of the past shower.
People re-emerge from their hibernation and go about their duty.

The storm is over.

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