That Sight
The red looking sun played peek-a-boo within the Mountain, yet the sky pooled with bunches of microscopic, clear droplets that pinged on the giant umbrella. I looked at the amazingly blue waters that floated the tiny rain drops. I griped my mother’s hand, which squeezed my hand hard, like a girl making lemonade on a 100 degree day, while sweating profusely. As I walked on this narrow road, on this humid evening, with the rain, and the magic orb which is the sun, hiding behind the capacious mountains, I start to cry. Not because I am sad, because I realize that this sight will be seen only by my eyes.
