There is something profoundly beautiful yet melancholic about the way the city is so full of life yet dead, when it’s raining. With the grey sky swept over the busy streets of the city, the rain has such a mesmerizing effect. Souls, scattered across the city, are bustling through the streets, not stopping to look at anyone or anything. The moment the clouds open and shed a thousand tears, pedestrians hurry in different directions. Most are dreading the rain, while some don’t even notice its misty drops. The clouds, full of anger and loneliness, start to spit each drop of rain towards the people as if it were poison. Every once in a while, treacherous puddles of poison form along sidewalks, and pedestrians weave their way in and out as to avoid getting their feet wet. The street lamps, like
