Cold Rain

Had the rain a beginning?

Two travellers, a small pig and duck, couldn't remember.

For the two, the rain was fitting. It was what they knew, what they were: cold and constant.

A third traveller, a panda, travelled slowly behind, carrying in its massive arms two bundles, which were so small and grusomely human-shaped.

The panda saw nothing, the emptiness in its eyes darkened everything.

The panda felt nothing, the emptiness in its heart permeated all the body, making it colder than the falling rain, which soaked the animal to the bone.

Behind the panda limped a small cat, which unlike the creatures it followed, seemed to feel the rain. However, the rain, though cold, had no persuasion over the body of the cat, which was stooped low to the ground, as though under a weight heavy as the world.

Perhaps for the two leaders, the rain was the world's tears, fitting for the children lost.

For the burdened, the rain mattered not. It was only a cold curtain, closing the play, which sadly had no second showing.

And the last, twas only fitting. Its reward for service served too well.