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Rainy Sunday
It’s Sunday morning
It’s raining
It’s raining heavily,
I sit in a cafe
I’m alone
I’m content,
I’m drinking a cup of black tea
My hands wrap around the mug
As I take a sip,
It’s hot
to hot,
I set the cup cup down and look out the large glass windows
I watch the world,
The wind screams
As trees dance to the music
The rain plays off the ground,
I see a women in the distance
She stands alone,
I watch her
I ponder her
I question her,
She's standing in the rain
Wearing an oversized coat
Black pants
And light purple high heels,
Her hand pulls a cigarette from her left pocket
And a lighter from her right,
She lights the death stick
She inhales
And a cloud of smoke kisses the air for the first time,
She interests me
I don’t know why exactly but she does,
So I watch her
I question her
I focus on her,
Her hands are trembling
Her legs are shaking,
She must be cold,
So why not come inside I wonder
Curious,
I continue to watch
Her face is flushed
Her cheeks are puffy
Her eyes are red,
And that’s when I get it,
That’d when I understand her,
I women
Standing alone in the rain
So nobody could see her cry
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I was sitting at a coffee shop yesterday and saw a women go outside for a smoke break. I couldn't help but make up a story about her.