drizzling rhythm.

I ran down the slop, in the rain.

With the rhythm of the rain playing in my head;

I thought I was late, as no conversations could be heard, no laughter could be recognized. The place was pin-drop silent, cold and there was a welcoming feeling of loneliness.

Then, I saw a movement with increasing velocity. And that looked familiar.

I wasn't late, I was just on time. But it wasn't good enough.

Because I needed more time.

Note to self: No more last minute stuff, please.