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Rain.
Rain
Bliss sat on her front porch watching the rain drip off her nose. It was cold, but she didn't care, Bliss liked the cold, it made her feel alive again. Like she wasn't just a shell of her former self, like she could feel again. Happiness, sadness, anything besides this empty feeling that had burrowed deep into her heart and grew until it had consumed her completely.
She stared up at the dark clouds that poured rain down over her mediocre town and thought about how much she loved it. Rain was constant. You could tell when it was coming and you could tell when it was leaving. “Now if only my parents could be like that.” She thought aloud. But then retreated back into her own little world, not wanting to think about her parents just then.
Bliss walked sluggishly back up the porch steps to her front door. She was soaked to the skin, chilled to the bone and still as disconnected as ever. The door creaked as Bliss pushed it open, dripping wet, she stepped inside and and walked down the hall, leaving a trail of icy water behind her. You see, Bliss was a creature of habit and rain made her even more so. She had made a list long ago and followed it every time a storm came.
1. Sit in the rain.
2. Contemplate life.
3. Walk inside, dripping wet.
4. Take hot shower.
5. Watch the rain drip down her window until the last drop falls.
When the storm finally subsided Bliss slid off her bed, bringing her thick down blanket with her, and walked back to the front door to inspect the rain's handy work outside. Water glistened on the shrubs scattered around the small yard. Rain drops hung on spider webs strewn between the taller plants, making the dusty, neglected front yard look like nature's jewelry box. Of all the time between the first clap of thunder to the last drop of rain, this was Bliss's favorite.
She walked out into the yard looking like a native American shaman with her head held high and her thick, heavy blanket draped over her thin shoulders. The puddles chilled her bare feet as she stood out in the middle of her dying lawn, watching the birds swoop and dive, listening to them chirp and cheer in their shrill, delicate way. All was still. Even the birds flying and the plants swaying didn't disrupt the stillness of the moment. Then something did. It was a low, very quiet, mewing sound coming from the side of the house. Bliss dropped her blanket and went to investigate. She turned the corner to the side of her house and was met with two brilliant green eyes. Bliss stared at the shivering little thing and the shivering little thing stared right back. Bliss looked closer and found that the little thing was not just a little thing at all, but a skinny, drenched, mud covered, kitten.
Through the mud, Bliss could recognize the little cat's fur ranging in color from black, to gray, to almost white. It looked just like a storm cloud and as Bliss knelt down to meet her new friend she knew just what she was going to call it.
Rain.
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