I am praying for rain nowadays. It’s been a dry spell for some time and nothing grows, nothing blooms.
My inner kids are sitting quietly in the corner with their raincoats and wellingtons, waiting for puddles to jump in. But not a drop falls from the skies.
My grown up woman is furious – like the fancy-Hollywood ladies with bright lipstick and no shame to be mad and swear at the unfairness in life. Furious! Waiting for the rain to come.
And my melancholia awaits the rain, ready to burst in all the colours of the rainbow. But it’s all dry, dry, dry.
Nowadays, I’m praying for the rain. It’s been a drought for way too long and the people inside me suffer.
My inner humanity is facing a crisis.
I’m praying for rain.