There was a time where imaginations were wild and adventurers ran free.
A time where excitement was found in anything and curiosity never died.
***
The Rhythm of the Rain
***
The Rhythm of the Rain
You might never count all the raindrops, no matter how few, but believe it or not, the raindrops can count you.
“Over there!" shouted Misty.
"That man's coat is still without any drops! Let's cover the cars and the houses and the pavements too!”
"That man's coat is still without any drops! Let's cover the cars and the houses and the pavements too!”
“That's one hundred and seventy-eight drops on you, and one hundred and fifty-three drops on you.” said Stormy.
“Look at the heads scurrying for safety! Don't let them get away!”
“Look at the heads scurrying for safety! Don't let them get away!”
The rain poured and poured and poured. Flooding the streets, watering the plants and the trees and making everyone flee.
“Twenty-nine thousand drops per second, it’s a great rain today!” said Splash.
Out in a field was one little head that didn’t seem to mind the rain. He wore yellow rain boots spotted with mud, and a matching yellow hat, all shiny and new. The young boy jumped in every puddle, racing to find the biggest one of all. He caught the raindrops in his tiny hands and watched them fall on his little yellow boots. He stuck out his tongue to lick a few, dancing and laughing. He loved the feeling of the rain, but he quickly noticed the rhythm begin to change.
“Seventeen thousand four hundred and twelve drops per second,” Stormy declared.
“Eleven thousand three hundred and five drops per second.”
“Eleven thousand three hundred and five drops per second.”
The boy looked way up high in the big grey clouds. “I love you raindrops," he shouted.
“Five thousand one hundred and twenty-two drops per second.”
“Thank you for visiting me and my rubber boots. Please come back soon,” he waved goodbye to the dark clouds.
“One thousand and sixty-eight drops per second.”
“Three hundred and two drops per second.”
“Forty-seven drops per second.”
“Twenty-six drops per second.”
“Three hundred and two drops per second.”
“Forty-seven drops per second.”
“Twenty-six drops per second.”
He waited, and waited, and waited.
Finally, there it was, the rainbow that came after the rain.
The boy watched all the colors in the sky. His smile was as wide as the rainbow.
“I love you raindrops!” he whispered. “Thank you for bringing me the colors.”
The boy splashed in every puddle he came across on his way back home. He set his boots and coat to dry, until next time, when the raindrops would come and visit him again.
“Zero drops per second.”
