When it Rains

How can that girl keep dancing that cold rain? We stare at her through our coffee shop window. She must be crazy. The rain pounds down and still, she dances on. She’s soaked, yet she’s smiling. Her hair drips, yet she looks happy. Why is she happy, when the storm is all around her is trying to tear her down? We sit back with our coffee, happy that it’s not us caught in the rain, but wondering why she’s enjoying the downpour. Continue reading