I found myself resting in my bed, upon my broken ribs. My eyes opening and fixating on what had settled ahead of myself. Directed up at the windows. They gave me nothing other than a dull illumination.There were clouds that were building together to create a monster; I thought for later. As they gathered, it felt as though the minutes ticked by like seconds. The formless bind of clouds grew darker in shades of slate, of dusted rock, where tidbits of droplets began to fall from above and splattered atop of the windows' framing, and glass. I sat myself higher upon the padded surface and every fold of cashmere that contoured along with my figure, only to have my glance met by origami flowers. Their leaves were as real as the storm itself, though, the flowers were indifferent to nature. As white as contrast would allow, they were in the shapes of perpetually twirling pinwheels. From above, a large set of wings gradually swung back, only to enclose about the air once more, to push back against the earths pull, as to soften the blow that would've been. They were of untouched snow, charred remains, and dabbled in blood. Elongated, and slender; much like all that perfection has ever dreamt to be; Cranes, gingerly greeted the dew-drop grass and dirt, reserving themselves side by side of origami flowers. They waited patiently, as the rain grew heavier yet another time around. The clouds themselves immediately jolted to their worst state, pouring from above and pelting the cranes, the flowers; breaking hole in the skylight of the only form of shelter provided, supposedly keeping me fastened from all nature has to bear. As the rain began to waterfall through its' new finding, the water itself had somehow phased through the ceiling, seamlessly. There was no rot that took place in the breach. The drops had accumulated and clung its light weight in the liquid before releasing it to my floors. I had been out of my bed, beneath the skylight, trying my damndest to seal up the skylight, infiltrated by the storm.
Something tells me that those cranes I saw melted as the rain hit them, crumpling up, just as it would if paper were introduced to a spill.