#INSPIRATION

sformat:

on a rainy day (by *6261)

Story Inspired by Picture:

THE MAN IN MY DREAMS

I couldn’t make out the face of this person in my dream, but he was there. I could make out he was a male by his silhouette though. The shape of his head, the broad shoulders, the short cropped hair. But his facial features were a mystery to me. It made me wonder what the colour of his eyes were. 

It felt like I was God, looking over this man as he stared in awe at the rain and how the clouds seem to be crying after losing a devastating battle to the thunder and lighting. I wanted to reach out to him; wanted to blow his umbrella away; wanted to see his eyes and know his pain. I wanted to ask him what was so special about the sky. I wanted to know what was it he was seeing that I couldn’t see. I wanted to see through his eyes.

I tried coming down from the clouds. I willed my body to move towards him. I willed my soul to move but I couldn’t. I tried to look at my legs, but I couldn’t find them. I tried to find my hands, but failed. I was the wind; blowing the clouds in the direction they were supposed to go to.

I longed to touch the face of this man, but I was too far away from him. So close; yet inevitably so very far away. The only thing I could do was to send a chill so cold he flinched. Finally, he was noticing me; feeling me; sensing me instead of just taking in the beauty of what he could see right in front of him.

-Nilofer Ashraff