{"sf1_id":866464,"sf2_id":null,"title":"Dancing in the Rain - Prologue","author":"Valt","words":674,"posted_at":"2015-05-27T13:28:00.000Z","tags":["Dalmatian","Prolouge","Sad"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/866464-dancing-in-the-rain-prologue","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/view/866464","image_url":"https://www.sofurryfiles.com/std/thumb?page=866464\u0026ext=.jpg","description":"","content":"Dancing in the Rain\n\n_Written by Violet-Salt_\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n_Love: noun_\n\n_1. great liking or affection._\n\n_2. Sexual affection or passion._\n\n_3. a strong liking for a thing._\n\n_4. a loved person; a sweetheart._\n\n_\u0026nbsp;_\n\n_5. Looking past any and all problems, willing_\n\n_to do anything and everything for that one person._\n\n_The person that makes you feel the happiest you have ever felt._\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n**Prologue ~**\n\nLove is a difficult emotion; it can bring out the good, the bad, and even the worst in any person. It can influence the most awful human being to do the kindest of things, and yet also cause the worst of pain to a person crumbling them to pieces.\n\nLove is a weapon, and also a gift. A knife in the back, and the medicine to cure it. It goes both ways.\n\nIf I asked you to describe love as a scene, you would tell me a happy couple, holding each other; and or showing their love in the most intimate of ways. Or, if you wanted to be a bit more artistic, you would say a sunlight field that's grass was softer than silk to the touch and looked greener than any grass you had ever seen. You would then continue to tell me about the beautiful flowers that grew from the ground, making the green grass a mere canvas to something even more beautiful.\n\nI would say both of these descriptions as heap of bull shit.\n\nIf I was asked that same question, I would say a homeless elderly man sitting on the side of a street. His clothes tattered and torn, his fur dirty while his tin can in front of him remained empty, all the while dark clouds cover the sky above where he begs for money.\n\nWhy do I describe it like this? It's like I said. Love has two ways of going. It all goes well, or it just falls to hell. Just like the storm clouds and the man.\n\nThe first outcome, and usually the rarest, is the sky clears up. The grey dissolves into a clear gem blue sky, casting light down onto the city where people continue to give the elderly man some spare change. He's able to eat and be warm, leaving him happy.\n\nHowever, the second option (which is usually the most definite when one sees dark rain clouds) is that the rain comes down. The thunder booms, and the lightning strikes the earth with its rage, leaving the homeless man, freezing, hungry, and alone.\n\nThis feeling, this... emotion is so intricate, it can leave one with enough money to eat, or can leave you out in the storm, left to wither away into a spiral of hunger and depression.\n\nSomebody once told me that people spend too much time worrying about how much damage a storm can do, yet they don't appreciate how much good it does for the environment.\n\nHe was one of those people. So caught up on how bad everything was that he didn't see what could come of it all. He is why my storm rages on, why my look on love is so screwed; and yet it wasn't even his fault.\n\nHis life was rough, hard and when any speck of hope showed its face, there was only darkness to plug it back up... and there wasn't a fucking thing I could do about it.\n\nMy name is Emmet Cameron Tate, and I am stuck in this rain. It pours down on me hard, like thick icicles constantly hitting and stabbing into my skin. Making it harder and harder to move on. The thunder and lightning, flashing and booming in a constant beat. It was almost musical.\n\nThe story is unclear to you, I know. That's why I'm going to tell you what happened. From when Claye started at my school, till when he left. Then you can see why my version of love is so twisted, and so contorted.\n\nMy name is Emmet Tate, and this is my storm.\n\n  \n  \n\n"}