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When Rain Scatters: Prompt I |
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When Rain Scatters
Patter, patter, patter. Looking up, Nieri wondered if the rain would ever cease. Hours have since passed from its start. Hours she has waited to escape the roaring song of the street. Patter, patter, patter. Long spring had it been, thunder storm after thunder storm rolling through the city. With every loud crash her tender bones shook. She wanted to go. She wanted home. Home where the leaves scattered the droplets into mist. Home where there was shelter, family, hearth. She had been warned not to come to the city. Her family begged her not to wander. Alas, she was young and naive. There was more to find here, some had said. Out in the skyward sails of cold steel wrought to strange figures. Older individuals who should know of what they speak. If by more they meant mean creatures born of nightmares, then she would have to fully agree. Metal had no warmth on days heavy with rain, nor did those who inhabited it.
Still the rain continued, small rivers ran along the sides of the street as cars streamed by. Why would one want to live in a place so lonely and cold? The food was plenty, but the love was not. People walked by you without a second glance. Too preoccupied with their busy lives that led to nowhere but another cold and damp city. Death, they say, comes faster to those whom forget to live. Always talked had they about life like it was a dream, something you could hold once you reached some level of accomplishment. Yet hurry they did to the end, and the end is always the same. The faster you run, the fewer who will try to keep up. The fewer who will stop when you lie to rest. The fewer who will mourn you. Nieri didn't want to be forgotten like the poor souls obsessed with getting further, planning out their tomorrows neglecting that there may not be one. She had to get out, Nieri had to leave. She had to. This landscape of metal hurt her young soul like a cage of frosted iron. This was not the life the whispers spoke of. This was not life.
Slowly Nieri stepped out from her temporary shelter. She was already soaked, what more could the onslaught do? She found her way towards the bridge, the river encroaching ever further along the bank. Three days travel in good weather, but she could wait no longer. She pushed her small body harder. Towards the trees, the song birds and the morning dew. No one would ever see her footsteps towards home. No one would ever know what became of her, the small wood mouse that went to the city with stars in her eyes. No one would know, because she chose to tell no one. Because she lived.
 Ceeshnia · Mon May 25, 2015 @ 05:21am · 2 Comments |
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