The Trickles of Rain

By Zahra Shirpurwala

On a Sunday evening lay the heart of a ten-year-old, Miah, as she watched the rain through the window pane of her bedroom, reminiscing her sweet memories with her father. She idolised him and seemed to procure a similar personality as you would look carefully into her dark ebony eyes. The trickles of rain brought tears to her eyes the same way it burst sad clouds on that gloomy day. Her mother was too working from home, busy with her tight schedule. But then Miah saw a shadowy figure, somewhat mysterious and untrustworthy. The figure came closer and closer and closer till it was knocking at her door. Her mother opened the door to see her father, all creepy-looking and scary. Then her eyes opened. She woke up. "Molu, did you have a bad dream?" said her father. Miah looked at his face and yelled. It dawned on her that this was all just a bad dream...

By Zahra Shirpurwala