old friends...

It started raining so I started writing. And the stuff are all conjured up. Yes, that means they are all fake and imagined. It also seems that i cannot type the title... er... blogger needs a kick somewhere... That's why the title looks alittle weird...

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You could hear the gentle roll of thunder as the rain fell ever so slightly. The thunder continued ever so gently. Posing no threat, it just kept a gentle constant reminder that the rain is here.

The rain was coming. Soon the intricate drops of rain started to form into larger more concentrated globs. The thunder sounder nearer each time the heavenly sound broke. Lighting finally lit up the dark skies as it finally entered the heavenly dance. Constant flashes lights up the night sky as the rain continued to grow in statue.

The rain began to sweep down in a steady downpour causing the scenery to be blanketed in a moist layer. The rain ran down the window pane distorting the outside world. The rain it seems made everything look that much more uncertain, so much more exciting.

John looked at the rain. The rain seems to look back. John reached out his hand to touch the glass. It was cold to the touch. Cold and distant, just like how his life was. John didn’t want to let go. Cold and distant was all he ever knew. There was no warmth in his life, there was no family. All John could remember was the cold and distant hands that held his as he grew up.

John desperately pined for the warmth that was missing from his life. So desperate that he had left all that he knew to find it. So desperate that he had been looking for it for as long as he could remember. And remember he did. John had been on the road for 4 years 7 months and 11 days. In a few minutes, it would be 12 days. John still remembers the day he left vividly, nothing would ever cause him to forget. Nothing he can phantom at least

It was raining, just like it was now. The thunder was rolling gently in the distance, gently encouraging John to seek it out, to find its gentle caller. There was no lighting that night, no flashes of light to point out the way, only the distant calling of a familiar old friend. John packed a suitcase and started walking into the night as the rain embraced him into the cold lonely world.

All this traveling and John hasn’t managed to find the gentle caller that first enticed him to left his house. All this time and John hasn’t been able to find the warmth that he had still desperately yearned for.

The electric spikes in the sky had subsided but the gentle thunder still called out form the distance, ever so welcoming, ever so soothing. The continuous thunder and routine monotonous motion of the train helped gently lulled John into a slumber. Nothing John could do could stop himself from entering his deep sleep. Sleep was a sanctuary. It was here that John had experienced the most warmth. It was the closest he had ever got to the real feeling.

John could feel it creeping upon him. He knew that on this night, he would be able to encounter warmth in his dreams. Every fibre in his body told him so. And soon John just let himself fall.

Suddenly just has the lightning had stopped, a blot streaked across the sky ripping apart the darkness plunging the sky into a second of daytime. The lightning brought along a piercing thunder that jolted John from his sleep. The thunder was not the one that had called out to John all those years ago. This one was different, it was cold, it was angry. It was like the words that were hurled at him as John walked away that night. They were sounds that John had tried to forget ever since.

John knew he would not be able to enter into a dream filled with warmth anymore and he placed his hand back against the cold glass. The rain continued to fall outside, it continued to distort the view of the outside world. John felt slightly comforted. His old friends the cold and the gentle thunder were nearby and his view of the world is being distorted. John couldn’t ask for anything more.