The rain whispered as I made my way.
People running for shelter as I wandered.
No one saw me though I walked among them.
Every drop a baptism into this life from the one where you existed.
And as I meander, my skin gets colder
And the warmth of your final touch is carried away by the wind.
Audrie is a writer and editor living in Illinois. She is a fan of all things horror and pop culture.