She had a way of pretending like nothing hurt at first. She'd go on for days, weeks, months without shedding a tear. But then the season would change and she'd cry. A flood of tears would escape her tortured eyes, making its way down her cheeks.

People found comfort in her sorrow. As her tears pounded the rooftop of every house, they'd sleep soundly, without a care in the world.

Her pain transformed into something uglier, a monster that could not be restrained. Trees would quiver under her glare and come crashing down because of her anger. Fear clocked anyone who was sane enough to understand that she had changed, the world had taken too much out of her.

Then she became distant, cold. Walking in her presence would send a shiver up the spine of the strongest warrior. She locked herself in her own, beautiful mind, leaving nothing behind but the trail of absence that is felt by the departure of a loved one.

She was a shell.

But she'd bloom when everyone least expected it. Her tantrums would cease, her anger would subdue into the corner of her mind, long forgotten.

Her smile would return, cautiously at first. She would test her surrounding, making sure it was safe to be herself again just as one would make sure the water wasn't too hot before submerging themselves in a hot tub.

And while the world is hiding from the monster that it had come to hate, she'd extend a loving hand, a comforting smile. Suddenly, the world wasn't so empty. Waking up didn't evoke the dreaded feeling of a sinking heart.

People would rejoice because she'd be herself again. The world would explode with celebrations. They had missed her beauty, her grace, the love she had to give. Never again would they rejoice in her sadness. No. They would celebrate her in all her glory.

But humanity had a way of destroying even the most precious of things. Destruction had become a pastime. And so they destroyed her.

And in her fury, she'd burn the love she had and the ashes would rain upon the world, setting ablaze the promises that humanity failed to keep.

Mother Nature would then weep because she only had four emotions. The fury evoked. The sadness that resulted. The resignation that crushed her spirit. And finally, the happiness resulted from a promise that would fail to be kept.

Summer. Fall. Winter. And Spring.

***********

Author's note:
I haven't used this app since 2016 and it feels so good to write again! I hope you enjoy this new book filled with my random thoughts about life in the form of short stories <3

Also, I'd love to hear your interpretations of my short stories. What comes to mind when you read these?