Rain
It was now, forming like snow-flakes, yet appear still, like an old photograph.
Raven smiled, feeling the wind blow her hair into a tousled mane.
She felt as though she was out there in space, riding the limits of the known universe with the love of her life , they would be a choreographed blizzard.
How the stars would move, the galaxies tumble and dart.
“You like it?” France asked.
“I love it.”