NaPoWriMo day 28: Gone with the rain

It was typical rainy day: grey, wet curtain hid tired steps of people passing by. At the end of the street, just below the tiny slope, every tortuous creek plunged into the porous mouth of the busy, thirsty drain. Water blunged in the rhythm of soft, muffled sobs as young women, with unvoiced stone face, continued to cradle her empty hands.

Maja S. Todorovic

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