The full moon perched restless on the bluish-grey clouds, and the stars watched, all of them transfixed by the sheer danger as the king of the skies hurled his bolts down on the earth. Death-cold rain drops pelted down hard, while man, beast & fowl begged shelter of earth from the angry skies, with heads bowed in acceptance of the supremacy of the over-head sovereign. The bloated flatulence of the clouds did vegetation justice as well. Slashed leaves lay hacked in shreds, sprawled on their brown, granular, life-giver...soil...mother of mother Earth. The trees were in continuous obeisance to the howling winds, whispering their orders loudly for all to (f/h)ear. they were indebted, doomed to pay homage to the gods of the skies tonight.

To put it mildly, this was the night earth reached its saturation point. Surely, the gods of the skies were at a saturnalia party, sharing out havoc like condoms at an anti-abortion campaign.
But, amidst all these pain of earth tonight...one brave was unmoved. Because she was moved by other things, matters of the heart-that place where all thoughts met, that place from which life & death moves to the tongue, that place...the very beginning & end of all. The bluish soft glow of the moon refracted through the cracked glass shutters of her room window.an uncovered piece of foam lay on the floor sadly, already at its end. Indeed, it looked as though, if five feathers were placed on it, it would collapse in flakes. Shabby clothes, haphazardly stuffed in a Ghana-must-go bag, prominently stood out at corner of the room. The room was on a full day, empty. But emptier still tonight because she wasn't in it. Outside its leaky porch, drenched in water, dressed in a white torn, knee-length bedroom gown, our brave belle braved the night's storms. Her high cheeks on her beautiful face she made a platform for the salty mixture of tears & rain. Watery almond eyes, slim perfect figure, white gown & tears and she was still a beauty.

They say beauty can be a force to reckon with; in its forceful generation of yet stronger forces of passion...irritation...love...hate...The perception of its essence being very intoxicating, its intricacies well-reputed of driving many intrepid.

And so was the nature of our beauteous brave, hugged in a death-embrace with nature, locked in time: past, future...but no present. Nothing mattered...at least, not anymore.

The rain came in dense sheets now, quick dribbles down her face as she closed her eyes to avoid the salty sting, focusing inwards where she could hear the only steady rhythm apart from the loud claps of thunder...pattering rain...croaking tree frogs... That steady rhythm of her heartbeat, a heart pacing to and fro...searching. Searching for peace, comfort, love...still searching .In the end nature won the battle as she trudged inside, soaked from her long ebony sheen mass of hair to the light part of her feet. The dim glow from the cracked table lamp did nothing to illuminate the black hole in her chest where a heart has once been, the reverberating hollowness, echoing through the depths of her soul...