I did this for a writing contest in school (by which I meant I reproduced what I wrote during the contest as near as I could from my memory when I got home). For some strange reason, probably because I don't actually live in an English-speaking country, this scene-like piece of writing got second place. Enjoy!
In the Deep Raining Night
I peered through the windowpanes. This was the heaviest rain I'd yet to see this winter. What we called "Tears of God" were now falling thick and fast. The normally bright moon was obscured by heavy rain clouds, and hardly enough light filtered through the thick layers in the sky for me to see my front porch, much less the streetlamp on the sidewalk.
Fumbling in the darkness, my fingers closed around a book of matches and instinctively struck one. The small, wavering flame illuminated my corner of the room. Hurriedly, before it could go out, I put the tiny flame to the candle I had just last night stuck on the windowsill.
I pressed my nose against the glass and withdrew immediately. The surface was cold, as cold as the ice that had formed around my heart ever since he left.
But enough of that. I turned my face away from the window and dragged my weary body up the stairs, stumbling into bed when I reached my room. I pulled the soft bedclothes up over my head and prayed that I might be able to get some blissfully peaceful, uninterrupted sleep tonight. But no such luck. As soon as I closed my eyes, the nightmares started.
This was even worse than usual. I dreamt that a horde of hungry monsters were chasing after me, but my energy was flagging and their waiting jaws were about to snap close around my foot. Just as I was about to become bait for monsters, I jolted awake, heart racing and chest heaving. It seemed that the heavens still had some tiny shred of decency left, after all.
The darkness outside and the pattering of the rain were clues to the time. A glance at my glowing bedside clock confirmed my guess.
With a groan, I rolled over and waited for sleep to claim me once again.
Then I heard the sound. Two sharp knocks on my thick wooden front door.
I bolted upright, threw a blanket around my shoulders for warmth, and hurried downstairs as fast as my legs could carry me. I skidded to a stop right before the door.
Before my rational side could kick in, I flung the door open.
Standing in the warm yellow porch light, with a solid dark wall of water as a background, was him. Five years in the war hadn't changed him; he was still the same man I'd pledged myself to, mind, body, and soul, all those years ago.
As soon as my mind registered what I was seeing, all my worries, my fears, my insecurity, and all my loneliness…they all melted into the ground.
Without thinking, I threw my arms around him and buried my head in his shoulder. Unbidden, the tears started leaking out from the corners of my eyes, reminiscent of the pouring rain.
I could sense the smile in his voice when he tightened his hold on me and said, "You cannot fathom how glad I am to be home, my love."