Rainstorm

Grey clouds blanket the sky, Bringing shadow to the land below. One, two, droplets fall snatching my attention. The winds pick up, moist air clinging to it. Purple plasma snakes the clouds, like vicious leviathans, bringing thunder. The rain starts pouring on the asphalt, like grass growing rapidly. Soon, a symphony of splashes are heard miles around. Swathes of grass swaying in the wind. the grass overflows, opening puddles with mirror worlds. The water flows on all colors, a cacophony of sight. Rain flows so heavily, almost to clean the world. Tires splish the grass, becoming fiercer than sea waves, Almost as if the tires surfed. Soon, all storms come to an end. The rain stops, bringing a warmth to rise the moisture from the ground. Now, the world smells cleaner.