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Storm

He looked at the sky. It looked back, its face clouded and grim, about to burst out in anger, to lash at the world with storm and wind. But he smiled, as he usually did when the world around him grew dark, knowing that he’d weather the storm. It’s easy to be scared, especially when the world around you speaks so loudly it drowns out your own voice, it’s easy to feel lost and alone and forgotten.

But that’s not why the storms are there. They exist to wash away the past, to renew the world and to offer it a glimmer of hope, a small chance at overcoming past mistakes. Every raindrop was an offer of life, an offer of hope. Even the lightning served its purpose in discharging the stress of the world itself – to calm it, soothe its very soul even as it shudders in response.

Every storm will end, but it will leave behind the gift of renewal. One would need to lose all hope to not appreciate what the winds brought them. Even something as regular as rain gives chance an opportunity to change the world. And that’s why the young man smiled as he looked up at the sky as it started to rage. It would calm, it would pass, and the world would grow once again.

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