yoru-no-ame

The fallen leaves protested loudly as they were disturbed from their rest to be swept across the lightly wooded landscape. The wind, uncaring to the leaves plight, continued to howl, embedding a strong sense of foreboding in all those who have the misfortune of being out at such a late hour. The moon, whose presence should have been visible in the sky was unable to ease the tension, for a thick layer of clouds had come with the wind to obscure her light. It was the perfect time to be at home, curled tight under warm blankets, safely hidden away from the crying leaves, the uncaring wind, and the moonless sky.