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The sound of rain

She was standing by the window. I was longing to see the sunlight reflecting on her hair. But she was listening to the sound of rain. I could see her long hair. She had dark, black hair. And I was listening to the music of rain, too. I could see her, and she could not. 
 
She was a simple and pure soul.  And that is precisely all about that made her so special. She was always a pure soul. Right then, I was looking at her while she is listening to the song of the rain. I could see her as a pure soul; I do not know if she could or not. We both were listening to the song of the rain. 
 
She could never tell why she was sad. I understood why she was grieving. She was thinking about her stillborn child. In this rude world, we tend to think about death, abortion, and miscarriages. She was one of them. I could see her, and she could not. 

We both were listening to the song of the rain. 

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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Date: 6/17/2019 3:06:00 AM
Delicately and purely done. Beautiful.
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Tamanna Ferdous
Date: 6/17/2019 5:24:00 AM
Thanks, Caren!