The aftermath of the rain was pleasurable, a sweet escape, a peaceful, silent, sunny illusion. I was on my way home, inside a tiny bus, quietly reading. The boy in the blue shirt was now resting his head against the window; he too had been bewitched by the tempting sun. I closed my eyes in an attempt to sleep. I too wanted to be caught in the spell; I too wanted to be the sun’s companion. My attempt failed and so I continued reading. The story was too bizarre and strange. I decided to abandon the unfinished story and began looking outside the window where everything was beautifully painted a light yellow.
In the aftermath of the rain, the sun mesmerizes those who willingly get caught in its web of dreams and illusions. I am one of those people and I would like to remain captive.