The little moments made the differences, the little wonders made big changes. Did they?
The rain poured hungrily. For days, no for months that rain’s absence made a sun lusty day clenched with humid air and perspiration. The rain was a blessing at last meant to wash away the angst of the arid looking tree community. For the frogs, it inspired an orchestra, for the worms, it broke their deep hybernation deep within the closets of the earth and for the dragonflies and butterflies, the pouring moments were for meditation. For the greater beings...well for the greater beings...the humans were occupied under their umbrellas and grey suit. The rain admitted little to do with their emotions as the large group seemed silent and behaved as usual on the sidewalk, waiting for the walking sign to turn green.
It turned green a repugnant minute later and she stepped on to the rain soaked street, the grey sky emitting rumbles above her head-the subtleness of which was heard in her ears only,for the rest of the crowd traced their steps to their various destination, unlooking and being uninterested as always.
She was tucked under a knee length olive green coat that comes with a hoodie and her face was submerged within the cavity of that hoodie. Unlike others, she didn’t practice the umbrellas. It never occurred to her that she might need it. What was there to be afraid of, they were only drops of water.
She walked straight past the street in shy footsteps and veered away to her right when the rest of the crowd veered for the left. The right is where the buildings are older and slight obsolete. The left is where the decent places are. She opted for the right where the shadows were denser and lingered for longer hours than the rest of the places. She hunted those shadows, each, a part of her resume.
The rain was still gushing down.
And the lone figure left her footprints mingling with the darkness. Only the abrupt lightnings were able to prove her existence. Other than that, nothing.
A street lamp flickered and switched off. Most of the buildings were quite with little signs of use, the light from the few windows were dim and weak. There was a reason she veered for the right.
And today was a blessed day. It was raining. The grey, the rash wind, the isicles in the air, the growls of the sky and of course the lashings of the lightning. All in all, the sky was writing a poem of avalanche. To some it was fearful. To her, it signed power.
She walked on.
The streets provided her with the company of none but only the sleeping dogs and cats, each creature in a determination to hide. From the rain.
The cramped buildings were diffusing out as the open land became clear in view. Only a few lived here. And not all who lived can be classed as humans.
She walked her small steps into an alley, it’s secrets concealed in its shadow. The trash cans rattled against the wind. The wind, that day, sang power.
She bent down in front of a trash can and lifted its lid. Then she concentrated inside on its abyss. Nothing but darkness.
“Come out now. The day speaks power and the shadows have taken over” she had a very emotionless voice, each word was like a whisper.
The darkness in the trash can shifted. Then after several moving around, it rose out of the can-a shadow standing up.
The smokey shadow dissolved into the structure of a boy with goblin static eyes. Nevertless, those eyes pronounced exhaustion.
It spoke. “I feel very weak.”
She took it up onto her own arms-the figure of a ghost child. She could have smiled at him but instead she said, “you can regain your strength. The shadows are proclaimed today.” Each word emotionless.
The ghost child on her arms leaned against her, closing his eyes to absorb the power around him.
She wrapped her arms around the child, giving him the comfort of closeness, watching the sky turn grimmer and extend the shadows around her.
She hunted those shadows.