It was raining once more, and the city seemed to be paralyzed again. Cars crowded the dark streets and people crowded under the corbels and into the shops. How curious is the way a couple of raindrops can cause such chaos to an entire city.
She was sitting by the window with a book closed in her lap. Her lost gaze was fixed on the horizon, on the thick dark clouds of storm that had swallowed everything inside them, but she didn’t see them for she was gazing without seeing.
There was something in the rain; there was something in those grey and dark days that made them deeply special to her. The rain made her feel good, it made her feel at ease in those long melancholy evenings accompanied by the sweet sound of falling water.
After all, on those rainy evenings, the streets were deserted, and silence engulfed the bustle of the city; on those rainy afternoons she didn’t feel alone, she didn’t feel sad; on those rainy afternoons she felt that she was part of something else, that the whole Earth was feeling just like her and shared her thoughts and emotions.
Those rainy afternoons took the best of her even if she did nothing but sitting quietly by the window watching the rainfall.