My heart sings with gladness every time it pours.

There’s something about it, the rain, that brings me joy.

I love to hear the mighty roar of thunder, mingled with the whispers of the wind…

The rhythm cannot be forgotten, my best friend too.

Shola.

Unlike me, she hated when it poured.

There was something about it that got her down on all fours.

She hated the rhythm I was in love with.

It reminded her of ghost stories, and haunted houses with cracked windows.

When it rains, it pours and

I can’t help but curse

For the rain brought me pain.

My heart no longer sings with joy,

Because that joy died. Shola too.