Weather

Nothing changes, you know. The weather I mean. Its just like any other spring day. Sunny, green, full of life. I imagined it being much different. I thought I would wake up feeling weak, weak in the bones. But no. I felt, honestly, better than I have in a while. There was not hint from the god damn weather. In Shakespearean writings there is always weather to foreshadow a terrible event. Foreshadowing a tragedy. A hurricane. Tornado. Even just a good ole’ storm! But no. You gave me nothing but false hope. The birds were chirping, Louder than ever. As if they were mocking me, Laughing at my naivety. Even Odysseus needed a storm to tell him he was in harms way. No one told me I would feel like this. No one told me I would feel dead, Dead on the inside. In my advanced literature class, They say to use the weather to depict the scene. Use a sunny day when someone feels.. Rejuvenated. Well that’s irony at its finest, right? I’m far from rejuvenated. In fact I feel like I'm withering into nothing, Nothing but pure misery. So, God, next time, When you want to pull a “prank” like this, Please have the curtesy to send Bad weather.