They kicked a stone as they walked through the streets.
It was raining hard and they had the hood of their jacket pulled up, their short hair was wet and clinging to their forhead.
They were dressed mostly in black, ripped jeans, a faded band shirt, chucks and an old gray-black college jacket with holes in it.
It was dark outside and it was quiet, except for the rain hitting the street. Nobody was out tonight.
They smiled to themselves. This was the best to do after such a hard day.
They had went out, left the warmth of their home to get some time off from the stress.
As soon as they had stepped out of the door they were drenched.
The water was pouring down from the sky and washed all their stress and worries away.
For them the water was like a drug, an anesthetization, a cure.
They were also glad that nobody was out, so that they were able to just listen to the rain and enjoy the emptiness.
People exhausted them sometimes. Too many, too loud, too many conversations.
They always expect you to be fine and happy, able to hold a conversation.
'Stupid.' They thought.
There is nothing wrong with being quiet sometimes. It is okay to have bad days.
'Seriously, fuck people sometimes.' They thought. 'Society is shit anyways.'
Sometimes all you need is just a quiet place to relax and be free.
When they came back home, they were completely at ease.
