Be rain.
Maya sat back down. The cursor blinked on her blank screen. She didn’t write a clever metaphor. She didn’t search for a quote. She just typed two words:
He took it, turned it over, and smiled. It was the first real smile she’d seen all season. “How much?” captions on rain
“Some people are like rain. They don’t come to stay. They come to teach you how to dance in the storms they leave behind.”
He turned to leave, then paused at the door. “By the way, I’m Sam. My daughter’s name is Aanya. She’s six. And she’s right, you know. Every raindrop does have a caption. But the best ones are never posted.” Be rain
“Why rain? Why not sunshine or snow?”
He looked out the window. The rain had softened to a whisper. “Because sunshine expects you to be happy. Snow expects you to be still. But rain? Rain doesn’t expect anything. You can be sad, lonely, or in love. It just falls. It’s the only weather that allows you to be exactly what you are.” She didn’t write a clever metaphor
She stared at the words. Delete. Backspace. Too dramatic.