Clouds

The grass beneath her feet was dry and unkempt, it stuck like a hair in the shower to the sweat on her toes. Her nostrils flared, the tiny bumps on her arms raised. She wiped her black, mascara-dyed tears from her cheeks and tried to breathe through the pounding in her head. It felt like her sadness was draining directly from her brain, leaving it bloated and dehydrated. She could feel it pressing against her skull again.

The clouds were intimidating, yet comforting. Heavy and beautiful, like thick smoke lingering in a crowded room. First a drop, then a downpour. With every growl of thunder in the distance, a scar was fading away. She let it soak into her hair, her clothes, her skin, her soul. The scent of wet lilacs danced around her. What is pain? What is betrayal? Bathing in his rain made it all seem so trivial.

She was the grass, and he was the storm. He healed her, yet destroyed her simultaneously. He was fascinating and dangerous, igniting her like a phoenix.

What is love? What is adoration?

Then. It was over. The storm had passed. And her brain was pressing against her skull again.

Reviews

[For Play]

Post mortem, something has slipped away and awaiting recapture.

[matrixmark]

So I do wonder whether you are going to follow this up with a complete story. It seems that it is a proluge of bigger things to come.

You have left me with a lot of questions - How did she get where she is? why is she there and why is she on the run. You painted a good scene - it was crisp,clear and clean. And I do have to say - I would like to see more.

Grammar - good.
Sructure -good.
A short,sharp read but nonetheless was well worth looking at.

Mark.