Rainy Day

by Herb Jones

The sky darkens. To fit the mood. Lightning brightens the sky. Thunder rolls across the horizon. Rain falls down upon every inch of existence. I sit alone by the window sill. Losing myself in the atmosphere. That is when the spirits appear. Haunting me. Plaguing me. They play a simple game with me. How much can he take? They never leave. I cannot rest. What can I do? When my mind is put to the test. All I want is solitude. But, that is something I will never attain I dread. When the spirits of the living wont go. And I am nothing but a spirit of the dead.