Feeling rainfall

It was a late afternoon. It had been half an hour since the rain was rattling restlessly and the wind was blowing blindly. My vague view caught a little silhouette with a head and shoulders. The head with black short hair seemed like a space view of the planet Earth. As I went closer, I saw her back in a blue pyjama and a yellow long sleeve shirt standing on the windowsill, against the iron grill, watching into the distance with both of her hands holding the grill tightly. The wind in her hair swayed the hairs on both sides of the round head.

She was staying pause. She may have felt the raindrops on her smooth round face or may have heard the pitter-patter on the roof. She must be shy seeing the raindrops kissing the leaves or worried of the drowned wet crow on a tree in the near distance that couldn’t reach home.

I leaned forward and my hands grabbed her, turned her back and I kissed her forehead as I kissed her first time when she was born. I saw her slight brown coloured eyeball glittered in happiness and told me “O thou, my world!”

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