By Tenzin McGrupp
The unsympathetic flock of butterflies that gregariously invaded her stomach late last night drowned out the somber fall of rain, as it tickled the ill mannered ground with multiple drops of water. As she hastily attempted to light her cigarette, the stifling wind challenged her every time. Aggravated, she looked out into the distance, and her detachment from her somber thoughts were quickly enticed by the splitter splatter sounds of the rain hitting random objects. Tilting her head, she strained to see a cat stealthily walking alongside the road, dodging the cheerless droplets and side stepping soggy puddles. The gloomy cat froze as the hypnotic headlights of an oncoming car shattered the dark road and lit up the murky ground where the cat now stood. Anchored to its territory, the overconfident cat stood its ground and growled. The reckless car, gaining speed, had no intentions of slowing down or stopping. She wanted to scream out and say something, to the cat or the driver, but a blanket of indecision had been cast over her. A rattling amnesia reverberated throughout her complete body. Without blinking she saw a bright flash of lighting, then heard a clasp of thunder, as the cat pounced left to avoid the car, only to jump right into the path. As the car disappeared and the rain continued to fall, she could not see any good signs of hope, the lifeless carcass helplessly pancaked on the trivial road. Slipping out of her brief paralysis, with her skeletal hands shaking and her doleful eyes glazed with fury, she finally got her cigarette to light. She scornfully smoked and carefully listened to the curtailed remainder of her last zealous symphony.
Tenzin McGrupp is a writer from New York City.