Oh, the rain falls hard when they’re gone. Like sheets of tears dripping down onto the world, sliding off of trees, buildings, the slush-coated streets that cars raced through too fast for the weather. The train pulled into town through the slush, spraying it to the sides onto the platforms before it pulled to a slow stop. The small town was perhaps the nostalgic reminder of a place long ago, because there was a nostalgic look on the dragon’s face as she stepped out onto the platform, pulling out her umbrella to ward off the rain. Her body was covered in a long red dress, cotton in make, and her curly blue hair was tied upward. Five or ten years had passed since she’d stepped foot here, in this little town. She closed her eyes and breathed in the fresh scent of rain mixed with the crisp winter slush. Lovely…

Azla