As my friend says, "I have no idea." Inspired by Unus Salus Monkey's "Death". No, I'm not depressed, but it is raining here...

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And they call it the “after-life”.

She stood looking out into the rain, the gray that enveloped the world. A touch of clammy cold air swept through her light spring jacket and hugged her skin until she pulled the cloth to her, shuddering. Her earrings were two spots of cold in her ears, and she backed further toward the building, peering through the repugnant sheets of wet drizzle. Across the now-empty concrete and asphalt she could see the pools of mud gracing the strips of green winding through the walking area, sucking down the little flags that the insecticide company had left there. One fluttered forlornly, startlingly red against the muted tones of brown and gray and mud-bathed green.

Red. The color was fluttering now, scattering in flickers of blinding frozen sound. The rain gusted in her face, and she let the rainwater trail down her forehead and drip off her nose. She watched as the flag whipped violently in the wind and relaxed against its spindle of wire. Sirens screaming against her own screams, waiting for a smile that would never come, covered in rain-soaked sheets that made him a marble statue. He always liked white.

Looking up. Closing her eyes in the pitter-patter of diminishing rain, soaking through her collar. Softly playing the piano, pedal on, blending in deep gold on darkness, a deep blue and brown blended in one, etched in the liquid song of the water and bathing her in stillness of a depth she could not imagine.

And it all becomes sound.

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