The morning rain showered the earth. The pure Drop fell down from a soft cloud and began her journey along with millions of other drops, so similar, but at the same time completely different from each other.

The Drop landed on the roof of a high-rise building and slowly crawled along the ledge, climbing to the rough surface of life until she reached a window.

The Drop looked at the glass of the window. It was so clean and clear, reflecting nothing, only transmitting bright sunlight. It seemed to the Drop that the glass was glowing from the inside. The Drop was happy to meet this world, and the world welcomed her. Gentle rays of the morning sun kindly and carefully heated the Drop and a slight east wind noiselessly blew across, covering her with calmness and filling her with hope. The Drop felt warm and comfortable. She would love to stay here forever, but for some unknown reason, she slowly slid down.

The Drop went down to the next floor and sat on the edge in front of a window.

The Drop, for the first time, met her own reflection in the clean glass of the window. The Reflection smiled at her. He loved being a part of her. The Reflection was turning left and right, looking at the Drop, looking at himself from different angles. The Drop touched the glass and left a wet trace on it. The Reflection repeated her move. The Reflection started to repeat every motion and imitate every feeling of the Drop. It seemed to the Drop that they merged with each other, became one single and harmonious being. The sun began to shine brighter. The Drop felt light and open. She tried to hang out here as long as she could, but gravity took its toll. She smiled at her Reflection one last time and slowly, reluctantly, slid down to the next floor.

First thing the Drop did when she reached the next floor’s window was to smile at her Reflection. She stared at the glass waiting for her Reflection to smile back. But the Reflection only briefly blinked, offered no smile; instead he displayed a nasty grimace and started to argue with her. The Reflection was playing games, turning away from the Drop. Not willing to talk, Drop turned away in response. Reflection moved as if to strike her and stared at the Drop waiting for her reaction. It looked like the Reflection didn’t know how to react to his own nature. There was so much unconscious cruelty in his actions and his gaze was naive as if he lacked an understanding of himself. The Reflection wounded the defenseless little body of the Drop. The Drop experienced pain and confusion; she couldn’t understand why she was being attacked. She felt weak and lonely. The Drop was scared and hurried to escape down to the next floor.

The sun reached its high point. The Drop felt the uncomfortable scrutiny of its all-seeing rays. The surrounding colors became unbearably bright and the sounds were loud but alluring. The wind changed his mind every single minute bringing more and more unknown scents to her attention. The Drop wanted to absorb each and every scent without losing a single one. After she’d inhaled all these  emotions she glanced at her Reflection. Suddenly, the Reflection threw lightning at the Drop.  Reflection hated the Drop, he hated the world especially himself. He started arguing, trying to justify his own true nature, but a second later, changed his opinion to an opposing one. He stopped speaking altogether, turned away, hiding from Drop’s confused gaze. The Drop kept silent, knowing that she need to survive this floor, to keep herself intact, and not cause unnecessary cracks on the Reflection. The wind shifted again and the Drop slid down to the next floor with a feeling of great relief.

The sun was slowly moving to the West. The light changed along with the surrounding colors. The Drop looked at the Reflection. The Reflection was waiting for her to notice him. He craved attention and immediate recognition. The Drop began to give into his charm and his sweet whispers. The Reflection promised her endless joy and bliss, infinite happiness, and sweet dreams. Just capitulate to the gravity and stop clinging to the rough surface of being, recede, step aside. The Drop was torn between the warm window, the stability of a slow, long and boring descent and the temptation to break away, fall upside down and for a moment catch the heady wind of freedom, giving away the only thing she ever had – her given time. The wind blew cold, hastening her decision. The Drop looked down, got scared and clung to the fogged glass of the window. The Reflection persistently pushed her to the edge; she couldn`t resist and fell down.

The Drop landed on the soft leaves of the flower that lived in a cozy pot at the window’s threshold on the floor below. She gratefully nodded to her Savior, gently slid down its stem, and leaned back against the foggy glass of the window. Drop caught her breath and looked around. The sun moved closer to the west. Surrounding colors changed again. Everything around grew soft and pliant. She warily looked at the Reflection. The Reflection was silent, and not willing to argue with her. For some reason he was angry with her. He refused to accept the Drop the way she was. He refused face the way he was, he longed to be something different, as if he was not in the right place. He would like to reflect upon the flight of a bird or the bold turns of a restless wind, but he was only destined to reflect her – a pure Drop – similar to millions of others. The Reflection was unbearably sad. The Drop felt sorry for her Reflection, but was afraid to touch him, remembering the horror, which she experienced falling from the previous floor. Without saying anything to the Reflection, the Drop slowly rolled to the next floor and left the Reflection alone with his sorrow.

The sun was about to say goodnight to the earth, giving away its last warm yellow rays and looked at the Drop with regret. Drop had changed a lot; there was no pureness anymore.  She looked like a regular small dirty puddle. The Drop increasingly turned to her reflection, but it didn’t see any point in talking anymore. The wind swirled around the Drop; she avoided his touch. She stopped finding inspiration in the victory stories the wind carried. The surrounding colors had dulled. The Drop felt cold. She raised her head for the first time since the beginning of her journey and looked up. She realized that she would never be able to get back up even one single floor. She stared at the dark sky and couldn`t believe that she had once belonged to it. She thought that everything that happened there – on the top – had happened to somebody else, but not to her. She smiled at her Reflection and crawled down, taking in her destiny and looking back once in a while, trying to understand the whole point of her journey.

The sun burned down, leaving the earth to witness its agony. The Drop no longer recognized her own Reflection. Reflection no longer cared. The colors finally faded and flavors lost their tastes. It became colder and the Drop started to freeze, slowly turning into tiny little crystals of ice. The Reflection became more and more transparent and finally disappeared. The Drop thought that she saw the light on the other side of the window, for a moment she believed that she could still beg for mercy and get warmed and cleaned, to become a pure drop of rainwater again and have another chance to start over from the beginning. But the light, the Drop saw, was just a reflection of the cold light of the falling stars; eventually the light disappeared and the darkness came.

It was late at night, the Drop finally frozen, turned into a small piece of ice and fell down to the raw ground. She hit the ground, but didn`t feel any pain.

The Drop looked up to the sky and thought about how far she had come. She asked herself, why? What was all that about? She turned around looking for answers. There were millions of the same frozen drops lying on the warm, welcoming wet ground, the ones, who once fell from a blessed heaven along with her. Some of them were iridescent, rare ones glittered like diamonds in a miraculous way reflecting a rare ray of the light from distant stars. Some of them were pure and crystal clear as if they had just fallen from the sky and instantly froze, unable to cling to the rough surface of life and slowly slid their way down.

They all peacefully breathed the smells of the ground and asked the same questions. Each tiny Drop of ice had passed its own way from the gates of heaven to the wet and hospitable ground.

The rain showered the earth the next morning. He cleaned up the streets of the endless city from the previous day and brought in a new day. A pure Drop fell down from a soft cloud and began her journey along with millions of other drops, so similar, but at the same time, completely different from each other. The Drop landed on the roof of the high-rise building and slowly crawled down to the ledge, clinging to the rough surface of life…


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