01. RAIN

I am just an ordinary person, have nothing special, except perhaps for one good trait: I am not afraid of being lonely. Staying secluded for a long time doesn’t bother me one bit. That’s probably why fate steers me to wet cities. Rain, with its damp air, could foist one on encirclement. Silence and drum beat coexist, sparking imagination.

My hometown folks explain: rain is God’s tears. I don’t know how many “gods” there are above me. Though, once, I saw the tears of a blue-eyed angel in a colorless world. Since this world has no color, the blue-eyed angel became a treasure. Angel was trapped in a glass cage, crowds surrounded for a stare. Years passed, many attempted to steal the blue from the angel’s eyes, many fended off. Noone knew the secret: the blue wasn’t in the eyes, it was in the tears.

A tear swelled until it fell down, possessing the world’s only blue, straight into the Dreamscape.

Dream world was filled with color in every corner. The tear stopped on the highest mountain to see all colors. The peak however only had snow. Silvery snow, sable rocks, frosted clouds.

The tear then sought for the ocean. A vast body of blue, into which it wished to meld and “repatriate”. After submerging, it suddenly realized that water wasn’t actually blue. Blue came from light.

It looked up, cerulean sky, after the rain, bejeweled with a rainbow. What a blissful place.

Then, the tear leaned on waves to be swept to shore, rested on an empty shell. Sun shine couldn’t dry it out, for it was an angel’s tear.

Tide rose, engulfing the shell into water. Tide fell, leaving it back to golden sands.

Days passed by until summer, the shell was picked up. The tear caught a glimpse of a blue, a deep shade of blue in an innocent child’ eyes.

How splendid those eyes were. The tear yearned to embrace that blue.

The tear was ill-fated without hands. The child’s hands twirled the empty shell, dropping the tear back on golden sand.

Oh, sand opened its embracing arms for the tear.

In endless darkness, there were no such things as colors.

The tear recalled being carried in the angel’s eyes. No more blue, was the angel finally free? No more blue, was that world destroyed? Was that world ascended into paradise?

Nothing matters. In endless darkness, colorless, the tear finally rested in peace.