She sits on the bench and waits, calmly for him to come.

Sheacknowledges the rain that falls, washing away the impurities around her

How strange that the rain reminds her of him. The way he always appears, without notice, the way that most dislike him for ruining the light, the perfection of the sky blue and turning it grey.

She loves the grey.

The same way she loves the way whenever the rain falls, all the earth and plants seem to reborn, how they all seem to be filled with joy. The tears of heaven is to them an elixir of life.

Strange how the tears of the heavens makes her so glad. Whatever could make angels cry must be horrible, but whenever it rains, she thinks of him.

And that makes her happy.