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Literature Text
It rains.
Rain washes away our teenage-flavored sins. Tobacco flakes, boyfriend/girlfriend juice, the smell of sweat and stinging perfume all wash away as the clouds open up and cry. They cry for our sins, our failed tests and broken condoms and lost best friends.
We watch as they cry, and tears roll down out cheeks as we open our mouths and bring their/our tears into our bodies. The water cleans us, make our insides pink and sparkling; our skin soft as when we were babies.
Our mouths are cleaned of swears and our eyes are polished of the things that they should not see. {but we do.} We are effervescent for a while before the return of the grey sludge that coats our bodies. In our lives we get mucked down in mud and sludge and silt, weighed down by lies and orders and murderous thoughts. But as the rain falls, it makes us pure again. We become who we used to be, little boys and girls. When we were those people, everything we did was in order to be happy. The rain restores us, makes us whole, makes us little people who don't know what it really means to get high and who think that the only thing that really hurts is skinned knees.
But then, it stops raining, and we go back to normal again. They move on, everyone shuffles forward. They don't know what just happened.
They can't remember.
Rain washes away our teenage-flavored sins. Tobacco flakes, boyfriend/girlfriend juice, the smell of sweat and stinging perfume all wash away as the clouds open up and cry. They cry for our sins, our failed tests and broken condoms and lost best friends.
We watch as they cry, and tears roll down out cheeks as we open our mouths and bring their/our tears into our bodies. The water cleans us, make our insides pink and sparkling; our skin soft as when we were babies.
Our mouths are cleaned of swears and our eyes are polished of the things that they should not see. {but we do.} We are effervescent for a while before the return of the grey sludge that coats our bodies. In our lives we get mucked down in mud and sludge and silt, weighed down by lies and orders and murderous thoughts. But as the rain falls, it makes us pure again. We become who we used to be, little boys and girls. When we were those people, everything we did was in order to be happy. The rain restores us, makes us whole, makes us little people who don't know what it really means to get high and who think that the only thing that really hurts is skinned knees.
But then, it stops raining, and we go back to normal again. They move on, everyone shuffles forward. They don't know what just happened.
They can't remember.
Prompt 30 in the 100 Themes Challenge, "Under The Rain". Check it out here: 
I actually really really like this one.
every time I write something, I wonder if John and Paul and George and Ringo would approve
I actually really really like this one.
every time I write something, I wonder if John and Paul and George and Ringo would approve
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Comments9
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Simply amazing. Worth lots of 
Sadly, I can only give you one for this, hope lots of others give you some too though!