There was a rumble from up above. It was loud and ominous and strong and bold. It was like a lion hunting its prey. The wind blew, bringing with it the chill of a December night. She shivered and pulled her jacket closer to her body. She tucked in a piece of hair behind her ear, leaving the rest cascading down her back, wild and scattered like a black fire.
Glancing up at the dark sky, she noted that it was gloomy. It was a colorless oblivion with no stars to guide her path. But as crazy as it may sound, she liked it better that way. She was never the ostentatious type. She wanted simplicity in every aspect of her life, just like most of her photographs were black and white.
She felt the first drops of rain seconds before she heard that growling sound again. Thunder. Her lips parted into a wide smile and instead of moving to find a shelter before the rain started to pour, the girl stopped dead in her tracks and waited.
It has been a long time since she did this. She missed the rain, she missed this quaint little town with its modest residents. She turned around and assessed her surroundings. She was standing in front of an old house made of wood with glass windows. And she knew, even with her eyes closed, that she could tell anyone anything about this house. Everything up to the last nail.
She knew it was very old and that a part of it used to be pig sty but was now converted into a home for a family of three. She remembered the gravel path sandwiched between overgrown grassy fields with wild flowers and a huge acacia tree. All that was left of it now was an empty lot with nothing but rubble and debris. She could still hear the sound of laughter from the children; still remember the feeling of exhilaration as she climbed on that tree. She could still smell the mother’s cooking, still hear her voice calling out that it was time for dinner.
Ahh, childhood. Sweet, sweet childhood.
Her smile widened just as the rain finally poured, drenching her from head to toe. But she laughed it all off like it was nothing. And it was nothing indeed. She doesn’t care a bit; she was happy, very happy. It has been a very, very long time.
“I’m home,” she whispered to herself as she headed towards the house. And home she was indeed, and the rain was welcoming her back.