It rained for two days after Greg died. His friend said that the sky was weeping with him over the loss of his friend. He was right. The sky wept with all of us who loved Greg.
Today the sky is enraged and menacing - growling and spitting fire. Crashing thunder and lightning echo the turmoil inside me. Violent rain pounds the ground - a rushing river flows across my yard.
I want it to carry me away.
Today the sky is enraged and menacing - growling and spitting fire. Crashing thunder and lightning echo the turmoil inside me. Violent rain pounds the ground - a rushing river flows across my yard.
I want it to carry me away.
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