Anticipating the Cessation of Rainfall

Xenia  牛雅妮  230110902

In the primes of their lives, people are always attracted by virtual and perfect people or things. As a teenage girl who is a star chaser, I am no exception. Adults persist in asserting that the pursuit of celebrities is devoid of substance and significance. They lurk behind the facades of screens, and such endeavors merely amount to self-devised fantasies. My mother echoed this sentiment nowadays, and I listened in serene contemplation, gazing out the window as a gentle drizzle whispers to the earth. Various individuals were employing umbrellas, others were adjusting their caps, while some raced forward with nothing but their bare feet. In fact, no one really knows anyone else, like pre-programmed NPCs, going through a monotonous daily routine. Suddenly, a loud shout snapped me out of my thoughts, "Did you catch that? You can't go to Chongqing alone." I responded with a smile, "Understood." Yet, they were unaware that I had already secured tickets for the concert. The day concluded with an exhilarating climax, marked by my feigned compromise. Nevertheless, its longevity was ephemeral, and ultimately, the concealment of the door was brought to light. It happened to be a day beset by rain, my mother's face was darker than the already gloomy sky, which made my father, sister, and I dare not breathe a word. The four of us sat around the dinner table, staring at each other. Even flies dared not approach, and as the perpetrator, I was particularly loath to defy my mother's directives.

No one paid attention to me, scolded me, or even comforted me. Consequently, I was not perturbed by the outcome; rather, I was merely experiencing a sense of disappointment and founnd it necessary to console myself. By the afternoon, the meteorological conditions incrementally improved. Suddenly, I heard a hurried footstep approaching. I didn't have to guess to know it was my sister. She's always in a hurry. This phenomenon might be colloquially referred to as "hearing one's voice prior to their visual appearance." A smiling little head leaned in towards me, with chocolate sauce still sticking to her lip from a sneaky snack she had not had time to wipe off, and I couldn't help but laugh, "You're sneaking off to eat something delicious all by yourself, aren't you?" she retorted. "Am I that kind of person?" I pretended to think for a long time, and she got impatient, pulling out an ice cream hidden behind her back. "Don't thank me, mom told me to give it to you," she said with a grin, as she turned and left me seeing the warm back of her. The sun was shining on my face, so I grabbed my phone to block the light. Then, a message popped up saying, "Quickly pack up your stuff. We're heading to Chongqing.” Ultimately, I succeeded in honoring my commitment.

The news said that there was a subway to spring, a road built on the roof, an interminable slope and the abrupt summer showers. Merely a handful of words hade ensnared my attention for a period of five years. In my recollection, the city of Chongqing, a three-dimensional city with scattered buildings and unpredictable weather. However, it had never crossed my mind that the sensation of heat and humidity would be so intense. Being a northerner, I found it particularly challenging to acclimate to this climatic condition. My father dispatched me on an errand to purchase some ice cream. Staring at the maze-like alleys, I was a bit at a loss as to where to start. Just as I was trying to figure out a plan, a familiar voice spoke up, " Do you need a hand with anything?" I turned around in surprise and came face to face with familiar eyes. I stood there for a long time before answering, "Excuse me, Is there any supermarket?" “It located directly ahead.” By the time I realized what was happening, he had already walked away. Before I could think too much about it, I hurried to keep up with his pace. Regrettably, a copious downpour commenced anew, prompting an involuntary furrow of my brow as I took shelter beneath the eaves. A well-known voice resonated from behind me, asserting, "Such is the quintessential nature of Chongqing's weather - it will dissipate momentarily." The raindrops formed a thread, and I caught a string of "sugar apples" from summer. The scent of fresh grass mixed with the scent of earth refreshed me. As the rain ceased, the day marked the final instance I beheld his visage. Nonetheless, it was with equanimity that I anticipated encountering the genuine him. On that particular morning, the sun appeared to radiate with an unusual intensity. I dedicated the entirety of the forenoon to the thorough and meticulous preparation for the impending engagement before proceeding to the appointment. When I arrived at the venue, I saw many versions of myself. Each countenance beamed with a smile that outshone the blossoming flora of springtime, transforming the erstwhile dreary streets into a confluent stream of affection. The moon gradually climbed up the branches, and the lights suddenly dimmed. Then, as if by magic, an unseen youth rose up with the light. At that moment, tears streamed down my face. As the familiar music played, my dream was finally complete in this moment. "I'll accompany you through storms and rough seas to reach the shining shore of our dream," the boy sang, waving at me. At this moment, I could confidently answer my mother, "This is the dream we have created together."

The following day, just after dawn, I saw the light rail in the distance slowly entering the mountain and disappearing in the fullness of life. With the sun at the head, in the crowds, I finally saw the Yangtze River International Building standing erect. Perhaps the sun is too dazzling, tears quietly down the cheeks already red. Suddenly, a large dark cloud came engaging in a battle with the sun, then the dark cloud won and ruled the sky, and the raindrops fell like twinkling diamonds into the crowd without preparation. As the rain finally ceased, I couldn't help but sign," sure enough, the weather in Chongqing changes more rapidly than the pages of a book." In the evening, punch the colorful Hongya Cave, among the Nanbin Road that the boys have walked, the gentle night breeze of the Jialing River slowly blew over, carrying all the thoughts of trouble, leaving only the laughter of the boys and the waves of the river. A patter of light rain fell, wetting the bottoms of my trousers. I murmured to my mother in a reassuring tone, “My realization of my dream is now complete. Perhaps, we are all supposed to wait for the cessation of rain in our own worlds.”（牛雅妮）