Here’s a solid short piece on written in a literary yet grounded style. Rainy Season
It arrives not with a single clap of thunder, but with a slow, patient claim on the world. One morning, the sky is a low, bruised gray, and the air—once crisp—has turned dense and heavy, like breathing through a damp cloth. rainy season
Then, as quietly as it began, it stops. The clouds crack open, and the sun spills out like a held breath released. But the world is different now—greener, heavier, rinsed clean. And for a moment, you almost miss the drumming. Here’s a solid short piece on written in