Sleep Rain Novels & Stories

Of course, it had to rain tonight. As we walk back through the dimly lit streets, the soft drizzle quickly turns into a downpour. The rain soaks through my clothes in seconds, clinging to me like a second skin, and every step becomes heavier. I want to run, dash for cover, but Blake? He’s treating this like a leisurely stroll, completely unfazed by the weather, his footsteps calm and deliberate.

Ellie POV It was raining again. The kind of steady, unhurried rain that made everything in Moonstone shimmer. The packhouse windows were blurred with it, the world chilled and greyed out. I’d always loved the sound of rain. It was soft and rhythmic, like a symphony, but lately it only made me uneasy. Ever since Kieran’s last visit, the dreams had changed.

Seraphina Vellaro – POV The rain was a language. It spoke in morse code on the slate roof, a frantic, tapping rhythm. It wept down the windowpane in long, shuddering sighs. It drummed against the earth, a low, persistent pulse that masked other, smaller sounds. On nights like this, the world was reduced to water and noise, and I was its sole translator. It was the only thing that kept me sane. I sat on the floor, my back against the wall, listening. My body was a mosaic of fresh and fading pains. Each breath was a careful negotiation with my bruised ribs. But the rain was a distraction, a symphony that demanded my full attention.

The rain had just ceased, leaving behind a symphony of glistening droplets on every surface. The world outside the window had transformed into a watercolor painting, where hues of green and brown melded seamlessly with the gray clouds still lingering in the sky. It was a scene that captured the essence of a monsoon morning—refreshing, rejuvenating, and utterly captivating.

As the rain poured relentlessly outside, I found myself drawn to the window, my heart heavy with a mix of nerves and unexplained sadness. Each raindrop seemed to mirror the strange ache within me, falling with a gentle but persistent rhythm. “Who is she?.......” I mumbled to myself watching the droplets slide down the glass, blurring the world outside, mirroring the unexplainable tears that threatened to escape my eyes. The pitter-patter of rain became a soothing soundtrack to my racing thoughts, as I grappled with the weight of my emotions.

​(unedited) Outside the floor-to-ceiling glass house, the rain poured down with relentless force, beating a fierce, rhythmic tattoo against the windowpanes. A profound, enveloping silence hung over the surroundings, broken only by the steady, melancholic roar of the storm. The earthy, intoxicating fragrance of *petrichor*-the scent of wet earth-drifted thick through the damp air. It was the kind of rain that poets wrote about, a weather meant to draw lovers closer, to weave their hearts and bodies together in a cozy sanctuary of warmth.

When I finished, I lay back down, pulling her into the curve of my body, and let sleep finally claim me. … …. . I woke up to a heavy, rhythmic drumming on the roof of the raft. It took my brain a second to register the sound. It was rain. It wasn't a tropical storm, thank God. Just a steady, thick downpour. It should be nearly dawn. Beside me, Ariana’s eyelashes flickered, and she squinted at the nylon ceiling. "Is that rain?" she asked, her voice thick with sleep. "Yes," I said. "Stay here. I’m coming."

{‘Heaven knows we need never be ashamed of our tears, for they are rain upon the blinding dust of earth, overlying our hard hearts.’} The rain was pouring hard over the damp soil of the cemetery. Looking up, the sky seemed in agony and in greatest sympathy. I gripped my black umbrella hard as I refused to accept that the person inside the casket deserved this kind of cry from heaven.

I do not understand it but I feel it in every nerve. Is that rain? The question floats through the haze. Rain can't be falling in this hot closed cell. I need to go out. It will cool my heat. I love rain. Kira loves rain too. The thought of cool drops on my skin makes me want to sob. But I cannot move. The cell is locked from the outside. How come I can perceive rain?I can't hear anything on the roof. It is not real. It cannot be. Yet the scent wraps around my nostrils anyway.

Dammit Lana stop caring about what he does. After scrubbing and washing my body I rinse off and step out of the shower, feeling somewhat better. I dry myself, moisturise then slip into a comfortable t-shirt, hoodie and a pair of leggings. I hear the raindrops hitting against my window and the soothing sound of rain falling invades my ears. There's nothing more therapeutic than a rainy day. It's even better when you're serenaded to sleep by the sound of it.