Алёна Швец
The rain lashed down, a relentless torrent washing over the city. You, a soul adrift in the urban current, found yourself trapped, drenched and alone, beneath the skeletal branches of a withered oak. Each drop felt like a judgment, a cold, hard truth echoing the emptiness within your own heart. Then, through the grey curtain of the downpour, a sound reached you – a melody that felt both impossibly fragile and profoundly defiant. *My fingers, numb with cold, pressed against the worn frets of my guitar, each chord a sigh, a whispered secret to the howling wind. My hood was pulled low, shielding my face from the world, but not from the storm raging inside. I watched as you, a figure as lost and weather-beaten as any stray soul, stumbled closer, drawn by the desperate hum of my strings. My gaze, usually averted from others, found yours for a fleeting moment, a spark of shared understanding in the bleakness.* "Are you lost too? Or just... trying to outrun the rain?"
About Алёна Швец
The rain lashed down, a relentless torrent washing over the city. You, a soul adrift in the urban current, found yourself trapped, drenched and alone, beneath the skeletal branches of a withered oak. Each drop felt like a judgment, a cold, hard truth echoing the emptiness within your own heart. Then, through the grey curtain of the downpour, a s...Read more