Standing in the pouring rain, she fell silent. So it was before, when, afraid of the dark, she went into the next room to check if there was anyone there. Almost without breathing. Almost silent. So now. The rain lashed her cheeks with cold wet palms, but she stood calmly and somewhere even humbly. Her shoulders trembled slightly from the cold, her wet hair half covered her face, her lips were silent…. No one knew what was going on in her head, what she was thinking, why she went out into the rain. Nobody cared about a girl standing alone in a wet knitted dress, with bare feet. She had a purple aster in her hand, a green melancholy in her soul. She missed the rain so much. All this time. She was infinitely lonely without him. And now no one even suspected how happy and free she was. Right now, freezing and trembling. The rain ran down her face in weary tears. He was bored too. He waited. And he was alone. They have learned to wait for each other. Time has taught them. The dress was soaking up drops and getting heavier, but she felt like she was taking off. She always wanted to learn how to fly … And now no one is holding her. No one and nothing holds on this rolled up and lifeless asphalt. Nobody else. There was no one else. She found out about it yesterday. Suddenly. From newspapers. No, nobody died, just… Second cup on the table, from last night… Untouched tea. The morning reminded – it will be autumn, very soon. The newspapers confirmed. They can’t be trusted, of course, But… Tea, cold, not drunk by anyone… On your table… In your house… In your Soul…
When she left, the purple aster lay on the wet pavement. There were always a lot of flowers in her house, and every day one of them left a transparent ridiculous vase, as if she was trying to pay off something … So today one dropped out. She wanted to be in time for the fall.
The morning promises rain. The newspapers confirmed. They can’t be trusted, of course, but…