I always wonder, considering the vastness of the universe and the miniature size of the planet we live in; what if there lies a universe smaller than ours? A universe smaller than a speck of dust. Well, maybe this isn't something to "always" wonder about, but it is a controversial topic so I'll end it at that.
The clouds thunder as she pulls away the curtains, only to find the darkness prevailing in the utter depths of the vast sky. They news hadn't shown this in the weather forecast, but it didn't really matter much to her since she had other stuff going on in her head.
*drop*
"-Ah."
The tiny drop of water, having begun its journey from the darkness of the clouds hits directly on one of the leaves of the flower pot. Followed by another drop, she realizes that it has begun to rain. It is now pouring enough to wet the soil, and the rest of the world beneath the sky. Suddenly, she sees a crash of thunder which felt like it hit the ground. A few seconds in and she can feel the vibration making its way.
"I hope nobody got hit by that..."
Frightening, charming, fascinating, worrying, scary, blessing and so on. All of these terms for a single act of nature. Those people who experience rain on a daily – or at least, weekly – basis, would probably curse it. They'd find it troublesome; always having to deal with the problems after the rain. Whereas, on the other hand, others who really get the chance to see rain, most likely wished the thing that the former curses for.
*Is this behavior natural? Maybe, maybe not. Maybe because I'm looking for the answer myself.*
With these thoughts clouding her concentration, she goes back to her chair and rest her arms on the study desk. She firmly grips the pen between her fingers, its upper tip touching the fringe of her lips. Whilst shuffling through the pages of the textbook, she thinks of them.
"I wonder what they think of this act of the nature."
She grabs a hold the pen that was now entirely held by her two incisors, one contrary to the other and starts underlining whatever line she felt like should be underlined. It took her two pages worth of underlining to realize that she had the wrong book. She can already see how concentrated she was.
Pushing herself away from the desk, she rises from the chair and grabs the Chemistry book.
"Ah, my nemesis..." she mutters.
She begins writing down the chemical equations, followed by their explanation. It's her most disliked subject, mostly because it's all cramming.
Why do I have to learn these, when they have literally no purpose in my future?
"-Ah. That's a thought. I'll save that for later."
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"Michael? Michael, could you come downstairs please?" the woman in a vintage dress calls out to him. She looks aged, near her fifties. It's that period of age where the wrinkles are visible, and the person has become fully mature.
"Coming, Mother." says the boy as he puts away his notebook and heads downstairs.
He's like any young teenager, a high schooler, but more of a genius. He's scored the highest in the mock test throughout the country, and is bound to have a promising future. However, like every other human being, he has his own shortcoming.
"Look Michael, it's raining... It hasn't rained for months. If your dad was here, he'd be thrilled and- eek!"
"Wha- What happened? Are you okay?!"
"Yes, yes. I'm alright. I just saw a lizard and sort of panicked because it was so close."
Michael sees the lizard which suddenly jumped on the window, in front of his mom's face. Anyone was bound to freak out. Thankfully, it was on the outer side of the window.
"Now then," she continues after calming herself, "doesn't this call for some snacks?"
"Sure... that'd be great. I'll help."
"Thank you~"
It was Michael's and his mother's routine to have a family snack-time. Although this time, it was only the two of them rather than three. Michael helps in making coffee while his mother makes fries. While Michael sets the table and positions the chair, his mom brings in the fries and places the dish.
"So, how's your study going?"
"Well, I did score the highest in the mock examinations. I'll do well, hopefully."
"Well, no need to be over-confident. You know that's the reason why you sometimes fail."
"M-mom! I've never failed..."
"To me, it's not the grades that decide your failure, but your attitude towards it. Trust me, even if you worked really hard and still weren't able to make it to the merit list; I'd still praise you for trying your best. However, if you were to be over-confident of your own abilities and then fail to make it to the merit list, then I'd seriously be disappointed."
"To be honest, you do have a point. I'll be careful. Thanks."
"You're welcome..." she says as she turns her eyes away from the cup of coffee in her hand, and begins looking out of the window again. Michael, ate the fries with quite delight because he hadn't eaten anything since morning.
"Well, I'll head back to study now."
"Got it. Don't push yourself too hard."
"Yep..."
Michael rises from his chair, slightly bumping against the table. Then, heads upstairs. While his mother is lost in thought, probably in the agony of the loss of his husband, he takes a detour and heads to the storage room, and climbs up the attic. His mother barely goes there because it takes a lot of effort and it's bad for her back. Just as he enters the attic, he reflexively covers his nose to prevent the damp, stagnant air from entering his nostrils.
*Umph! Mmngh!*
"Good, the window's closed."
*Hhmph! Mmngh! Mmghh!*
"So, how are you doing?
Dad?"