Each raindrop is a memory.

When I was a little boy staying with my father on the weekends it rained three weekends in a row. I was talking to my mother about how much I loved the rainy days. She loved summer and the warmth of the sun on her skin, and she asked, “Why?” “It makes me feel peaceful.”

DROPS OF YOU BY YUSAF KHAN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 76

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