Raindrops fall, only a few at first
She runs into the rain trying to catch the droplets, splashing in the mud puddles.
It’s fun at first, the newness, the excitement of fresh water.
The clouds begin to darken, more droplets begin to fall.
Heavier tears fall, slapping her cheeks and soaking through her rain boots.
Wet, soaked to the core from the spring shower, the ground saturated,
She begins to sink into the slug she shortly was splashing in.
Shortly regretting she came into the rain, now a storm.
Hurricane winds blowing her back swirling her hair around her neck,
A noose to hang her. Lying down on the ground she crawls through the mud,
hanging on only by her finger nails she finds shelter trough the storm.
Disheveled, but alive, the storm was hell, but makes for a great story.