If a building could see, the windows would be its eyes. The windows lit up, intense with feeling, as shimmering dots of light began to spill out of those eyes. The pitter patter of a gentle rain permeated the air and the lights now began to trickle out of the drain pipes … To her, it was as if the walls was crying, pouring the contents of its soul to the outside world. She felt it crying out for a bygone, crying for innocence lost, crying for lives wasted, crying to be pure again.
The white shower continued to cascade successively across the walls, from one opening to another, illuminating the entire laneway section by section. She watched, mesmerized as the lights streamed down towards the ground, almost to her feet. They danced in sync to the musical accompaniment of the rain. As they reached the end of the lane, she felt dizzy as the lights reached a frenzy and the pattering sounds grew to a crescendo, along with the rumbling of thunder the distance, saturating the laneway. The thunder in her heart grew with the sounds and the air felt somewhat humid against her skin.
Within moments, the tears evaporated and all that was left was a gentle crying, as if someone had been a victim of a malicious act. A luminous red door seemed to appear at the end of the lane, one that she had never noticed before. She suddenly jerked back into reality. Losing her balance, she stumbled forward, dropping her canvas bag. Bending over to pick it up again, she felt a chill down her spine. What just happened? Did anything happen? What am I doing in this obscure lane?