STORM
The day started with a memory. Something I didn't want to recall, but came to me in a rush of past moments. My sisters. Darkness. Fire. Blood. Weakness. And at last, the rain. The cleansing of sin. My eldest sister, Islee, always said that when it rained in our sector, its sin was washed away until the next came. That to stand in the rain was to be cleansed of wrong-doing and impurities. The people of this place are full of impurities, and yet they shy away from the rain. They stay indoors, they hide in their homes. They put umbrellas over their heads and use rain coats cover their bodies. As I looked out of my apartment, I was gripping the window frame, watching them avoid the one thing that could help cleanse them, watching as they felt none of their shame. It made me feel sick. I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead to the cool window, trying to feel at home, listening to the pattering of the rain. I felt it, a storm coming. I knew instantly that this one wouldn't ...