A child's picture, faultless despite all faults. A gray cloud, a circle of

curlicues. Rain drops, streaks of blue.

The sound of grass shards shattering upon silver chimes. The patterning of

Tiny feet against echoing stones.

Little wet kisses, a loving child. She turns her face to them, savoring

the small finger that caress, the vulnerable tears that pain.

A roar.

A rush.

Lightning cracks her punishing whip against, thunders back and the world drowns.

But there is no rain, the gray eyes are spent from weeping. No more tears

A rainless storm.

Still, she stands, searching into the emptiness before and after.

Still, she stands, drenched by the blue rain.