100-Word Memoir
Raindrops keep falling on my face…
A monsoon in my eyes, a tempest in my heart
Published in
Apr 14, 2022
It was raining hard that warm autumn afternoon. The ambient heat was nowhere as oppressive as in summer in the plains, relieved only by cloudbursts. Nor was the sky dark, gloomy, gravid with stormy monsoon showers. I stepped out onto the street sans umbrella; rain pouring from a hazy, sunlit sky drenched me cap-à-pie, water streaks down my cheeks perfectly concealing two streams of tears. Unfathomable emotions welled up inside my chest, threatening to suffocate me unless I had that lachrymose release of my grief.
For I knew, somehow, I would never get to see or hug my grandmother again.
Oh, and trying out the tagging thing: KiKi Walter, Preeti Ramachandran, Gaurav Jain, Bernice Puzon, Drashti Shroff, et alia.
