Ficly

Only Natural

Rain patters gently on the rooftops, wind following swiftly and quietly alongside. The leaves hum low in agreement as they pass, intertwining into a steady rhythm so practiced by the world. Clouds hang low in the twilight tinted sky, blocking out the moon and her children. Insects and birds and all creatures of the night are still; for their chorus has been put off until morrow.

I smile.

My clothes are soaked and my gingery hair is plastered to me, yet I keep my gaze skywards. My already pale skin has brightened to a refined ivory, and my cheeks have been sprayed gently with a subtle rosy shade. I inhale the intoxication scent of the rain deeply, filling my lungs until I can do so no longer. And I hold it. The scent swirls around my brain, sending me headfirst into a vortex of indescribable joy. My mind goes blank; replaced with natural bliss.

I smile.

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