on the other side.

when tears and rain collide on her face she feels a sense of purity and cleansing.
her water-soaked white cotton dress sticking to her skin, she collects it in her hands
and begins to run.
she slows and walks soundlessly down the path; her bare feet against the cool, wet wood.
with every post-storm salty breeze, the trees shake, relasing droplets upon her shoulders.

everything is greener after a storm.