It’s 3 A.M and the sound of heavy rain cracking his window half-open wakes him up while his phone is loudly ringing.
He picks up as thunder breaks the fragile clouds to pieces, and so they weep rain.
There’s heavy breathing on the other end
And he’s half-asleep. It takes him a while until he finally realises; it’s her.
It’s been years, he still knows that it reminds her of her father containing her whenever thunder screamed, even at 2 A.M.
“It’s ok” he tells her, and he is tempted to tell her how the elegant fall of raindrops reminds him of her.
There’s heavy breathing on the other end, all he could hear is the rise and fall of her chest, and her heart racing a thousand miles away from him.
“It’s ok” he tells her,
But she does not speak.
© 2014 ALIA SULTAN