Storm

Hard rain pelts my face. Stings. Wet green grass slips over my shins as I battle through the wind up the hill, through the squall. Gusts of wind whip my hair across my face, and back again, erratically, angrily. I pull myself up, closer and closer. You turn, laughing on the wind, billowing, pale skin, shining black hair. Around us, all is empty, green and grey, thunder, lightning and deep black clouds. You reach out towards me, fingers outstretched. Your mouth forms words, but I cannot hear over the roar of the wind and the burning drops on my cheeks. I squint into the grey, looking out for something, anything, finding nothing. There is just the sound of the storm, strains of your laughter, and now, in the distance, the sea. Crashing and roaring, it tears at the cliff below. Now we are near the edge. You laugh again; stretch your arms out towards me and our fingers brush. Water runs between the tips, and then you run back, up, into the mist. I know I am cold, but I cannot feel it. Water seeps through everything; down my scalp into my eyes, off my nose into my mouth. I slip on the grass and feel cold mud beneath my palm. Wiping it off, I run after you, blind. I reach the top. You are standing, facing me. Behind you is nothing; air and the roar of the sea. You look at me, shiver. Raindrops drop from your eyelashes, run down your cheeks. You are no longer smiling, but breathing heavily, looking at me with deep dark pupils. For a moment you look like you may speak. Then you close your mouth, shiver again. You close your eyes. Take a step backwards. I look hard at your face, your dripping lashes, pure white skin and perfect mouth. You step back again, out, off the edge, into nothing. Fall. Disappear. I stand in the rain amid the thunder.