roof tile

one fine afternoon. a sudden wind blew and awaken the hovering clouds lazing over the head. Balls of cotton condensed into thousands or millions of water droppets and fell with the force of gravity. shout and scream of joy and excitement filled the sky as the droppets, bored and waited patiently for so long, eager to know which spot on the earth is awaiting them. some fell on the clothes white and blue and green almost dried up hanging at the back of the house, soaked in between the fibres so fine they had to break and divide themself just to pass through. some fell onto the frangipane leaves, glided over the rough yet sophisicated surface and met up with other friends to land on the ground, then penetrated through layers of soil to find the blinded worms. some lucky one found their way home, fell into the flowing stream that will soon take them back to the sea. the less fortunate one fell on the sizzling tarmac road, just to be immediately heated up and evaporated, and started all over again the prolonged and boring process of reaching up back to the top for the next ride, when any sudden wind blow again. and now there is this big drop like no other. his body was so rounded perfectly you could hardly precisely imagine it. with great momentum he fell onto the one of the thousand roof tiles of one of the thousand houses in the neghbourhood, and splash! the roof tile dropped and broke just in front of the window.