When It Pours It Rains Novels & Stories

Raising my arms, the clouds turn gray and everyone could see the lightning as it came closer and closer before hitting me and rain falling. "Pluvia. Pluvia. Pluet super nos omnes. Pluvia. Pluvia. Pluet super nos, et purifica nos. Imbribus, iterum nos sanos fac." (Rainfall. Rainfall. Rain on us all. Rainfall. Rainfall. Rain on us and purify us. Rainfall, make us whole again.) - I say out loud.

He answered loudly as he turned the volume higher than before. I chortled and sang the song. I turned the windows down of the jeep and rested my hand out to let the light rain hit my skin, it makes me happy. I always feel like a child whenever it rains. It washes away all my worries and the darkness that turns my heart into the darkest shade of black.

I соvеr mу fасе аnd sob some mоrе, ѕtuсk оut here оn thе соld, rаіnу ѕtrееt. Thе rain іѕ a соnѕtаnt drіzzlе nоw. It’ѕ the tуре that mаkеѕ уоu mіѕеrаblе аnd соld but dоеѕn’t soak you tо the bone. I mаnаgе to рull myself tоgеthеr.

Suddenly she forgot basic words and really felt like an idiot. "Cut the cackle, Jasmine. Now co-" but before he could continue the clouds rumbled and the next second the rain pitter-pattered on the roof. Both of their heads snapped to the outside before a grin appeared on her face. It's raining! And she loves them the most. Isn't it beautiful when the rain pours? That sweet pitter-patter sound, the soothing cold wind, the fresh earthy scent. God! Her foot is itching to run outside and play in the rain.

I came so close. But then, the clouds over our heads opened up, and it began to rain. Not a metaphorical rain, not a symbol of our emotions pouring out. Real, cold, windy rain. Hard and heavy, and soaking through our clothes.

chapter 3 | shit just got personal. _____ It's Friday, she picks calls on Friday. The tapping sound wakes me up. I put off the curtain to look outside and found it raining rather heavily. The dotted silver threats drop from heaven almost as if they are announcing the arrival of a new day. I opened the window aware that I'm going to soak my clothes if I do it. Honestly, I don't care, I love rain a little too much. why drown in my own thoughts when I can sit in rain.

But the moment I step out, it begins pouring. The rain lends a richness to each colour, and the browns deepen in a way that calms my heart and provides solidity to my spirit. The grass becomes glossy, reflecting the light, giving their wands a fresh sparkling sheen as they softly wave in the breeze. This rain gives a breath of fresh air, each drop is a divine gift for each component of existence. I lift my hand, bend my head toward the sky, and feel water cascade on my palm. Soon, the sky begins to clear, revealing a blank blue canvas with a few cotton clouds floating around. I take a step outside the shelter. As my sole touches the earth, my toes are bathed in the newly bequeathed rain. It

“No fucking way. Is that what I think it is?” The little droplets of rain falling on our bodies was enough to answer her question. “You jinxed it.” I glared at Reign. “How could I have known it was actually going to rain?” Reign spluttered, just as another thunder reverberated the earth, louder than the last one. Soon the drizzle turned into a light downpour. “Oh my God, what do we do?”

" Winston’s hand slowly went limp. The umbrella slipped completely from his grasp, hitting the wet concrete floor with a soft, hollow thud. Ethan walked up to my side. He didn't hold an umbrella over my head for me. Instead, he simply placed a closed umbrella directly into my hand. "Natalie, the choice is entirely yours." I took the umbrella from him and snapped it open. The sound of the rain drumming against the canvas canopy was incredibly light and gentle. Winston stood frozen in the downpour, his bloodshot eyes watching me through the sheets of water. But I never looked back. Because that storm had already stopped in the past. And I finally no longer needed to wait for anyone else to hol

In the top half of the fourth inning the sky opened up. The only warning was a big fat drop of rain here and there. Then nothing. Then, whoosh! Even if anyone had an umbrella with them in the stands or out on the field, there was no time to get one up to prevent a serious soaking. This was no gentle shower, but a torrent of hard, cold bullets of water hurtling down with enough force to hurt.