The rain poured and poured over the vast meadow. It was as if today was one of those fateful days, so important, so inevitable. It was as if some unseen higher power had decided to show all other, lower beings and nature how angry and enraged it was.

The roaring wind blew through the overgrown field. The lush branches of the few trees that could be seen through this dark, angry, and sad picture swayed. The gray shroud enveloped every innocent blade of grass or bud of flower, ready to unfold before the world, only to be torn away in an expression of anger and bitterness reigning in its own chaos.

This mistress was responsible for all this, tearing out her emotions and feelings on every living and non-living thing, as if they were also to blame. But, in fact, she was blinded by all this fog. She was to blame for this whole thing. Yes, she was guilty, but the root cause—the thing or person hiding in the shadows—was the true actor responsible for this whole situation.

And far from any prying eyes, in the midst of the cold, the blizzards, and the lightning, under the green canopy of one of the three trees, stood two lovers, separated by a fate so cruel that they could only meet when there were no evil eyes watching them. Only then, the pure silence of a blissful moment was enough for them to be completely happy—no worry, no tension.

But it seemed this merciless fate had finally decided to strike.

And amid the all-consuming rain, a fatal spark split the sky, landing squarely on its target—two lovers waiting for their freedom. Salvation so cruel, yet so grateful.

The rain stopped its song, the wind ended its wild dance, and the fury subsided slowly and silently, as if accepting the fact of the destitution of its creator.

© dahlia