Beyond the angry vehicles and the impatient people, there is a little world behind a blue umbrella.
The rain and the sea are riled up. The rain attacks the city with the new found vehemence. The blue umbrella holds its own. It stands strong, quivering only now and then, unable to contain the emotions.
Their world is a lot more secure in the monsoons. Behind the blue fabric, they are overwhelmed with everything they feel. The rainwater runs down their faces, like tears of gratitude. They trace patterns on each other's palms, speaking a secret tactile language.
They inch closer, trying to find a way to express themselves best. Their thoughts remain unspoken as they see a cop in a yellow raincoat at a distance.
They start walking away, worried that they'd have to bare their feelings in front of an irate policeman. The blue umbrella in all its majesty protects then from the rain, but fails to shield them from the judgemental eyes of the city.
The rain and the sea are riled up. The rain attacks the city with the new found vehemence. The blue umbrella holds its own. It stands strong, quivering only now and then, unable to contain the emotions.
Their world is a lot more secure in the monsoons. Behind the blue fabric, they are overwhelmed with everything they feel. The rainwater runs down their faces, like tears of gratitude. They trace patterns on each other's palms, speaking a secret tactile language.
They inch closer, trying to find a way to express themselves best. Their thoughts remain unspoken as they see a cop in a yellow raincoat at a distance.
They start walking away, worried that they'd have to bare their feelings in front of an irate policeman. The blue umbrella in all its majesty protects then from the rain, but fails to shield them from the judgemental eyes of the city.
your stories are like word pictures..
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