When Rain Fell Unseen Novels & Stories

I matched his hushed tone equally, but then, it was somewhat discreet and in less than a second, his gaze had dropped from my eyes but just as quickly, he returned them back instead. Something continuously dropped on me from above and it was until my hand felt the wetness of it, did I come to observe that it was raining...it was raining! Though, my joy was being celebrated in my head, seeing as we hadn't moved from our spots yet but I was ready to end this. Boldly, I severed the connection first, bringing my delight to the surface next. The cold didn't matter anymore nor did my lack of clothing bother me as well. It was remarkable, and I hadn't even realised that I could ever miss the rain a

He was hiding something. The walk back to our cabin was uncomfortable. Samyak tried to touch my hand, but I shrugged him off. He gazed at me like a wounded puppy, but I kept my eyes carefully averted. The brown of my irises turned to wooden planks, boarding up the windows and keeping him out. My nerves were frayed. As we stepped through our small, familiar doorway, the rain began to fall. It thundered against the grass, and lashed at the fragile windows. Its vehemence shocked me, and I wondered at how there could have been such a violent rainfall when moments ago there had been only clouds.

And the crazy thing was…I still didn’t even know why. Thunder roared across the sky, and I looked up. The stars were gone, and dark clouds flooded around me. Little drops of rain fell on my face and I closed my eyes. As the rain steadily came down harder, I welcomed it on my face like a cleansing and let myself get soaked. I sat up and listened to the rain fall around me, letting the sound deafen my pain. “I guess we will always meet in the rain, won’t we?” I immediately opened my eyes and looked around. I didn’t see anyone around, but I recognized the voice. I looked even harder, and I still couldn’t see anyone. Was I going crazy?

*** The rain poured relentlessly, drenching the entire city of New York without mercy. The night was eerily quiet; even the usual roar of vehicles on the highway was absent. Only the patter of raindrops on the asphalt and the rumble of thunder breaking the pitch-black sky could be heard. In the midst of the downpour, Anastasia stood beneath a deserted city bus stop. She clutched her suitcase tightly, her clothes and body slowly soaking as there wasn't enough shelter to keep her dry.

Chapter 140: Crossroads The rain drummed steadily against the old wooden balcony of Clara's apartment, the sound echoing through the hollow spaces of her heart. She had never expected to face this moment—not the way she had envisioned her life unfolding, nor the choices that lay before her. Balancing precariously at the edge of uncertainty, Clara felt the weight of the world resting on her shoulders, each drop of rain mirroring her hidden turmoil.

--- Rain had become a language of its own. It whispered in Yvette’s ears as she moved through the days half-awake, a low, constant murmur that filled the silence left behind by her mother’s absence and the heaviness of everything that had followed. It clung to her skin like a second weight, and to her soul like grief that refused to be named. She sat by the living room window, coffee gone cold in her hand, watching the street below. Third day in a row that same gray sedan parked near the corner hadn’t moved. She’d noticed it. She knew they were watching.

That night, the rain fell like a secret. Droplets tapped gently against the windowpane, like delicate fingers impatient to come inside. The sky over Paris was overcast, gray like an unspoken truth. Inside the mansion, warmth did not come from the fireplace, but from an intentional silence.

The raindrops created a mesmerizing tapestry against the window, each droplet a testament to the intricate wonders of the world around them. In the hushed stillness of the rainy afternoon, mother and child shared a moment of quiet connection, their hearts attuned to the soothing cadence of the rain. As the rain continued to fall, a sense of peace settled over them, wrapping them in a cocoon of love and serenity that transcended words.

They made you see things in an entirely different light, and understand that death lurked everywhere in as much density as life itself. Indeed, no light could exist without darkness. Although it was a rarity, rain could sometimes fall during summer. Like it did today. I watched it fall from inside my room. Water droplets raced down the window pane, like tears from the sky. The longer I watched the rain fall, the greater the old need to feel it on my skin grew. It rose within me, born out of boredom and the need to do something impulsive, until I could no longer hold it in.

THE UNSEEN HUSBAND Sebastian found the journal by accident. It was three days after the confrontation with Helena, and he'd been looking for a book to read to the children before bed. Alessia had mentioned keeping some books in the chest by the window, so he'd opened it without thinking. Inside, beneath a few worn volumes, was a leather-bound journal. He almost closed the chest immediately—it was clearly private, clearly Alessia's—but the page it was open to caught his eye. Not because of nosiness, but because of the handwriting. The same careful script from the letters Helena had intercepted, but this time formed into poetry.