Random Work of Fiction (Fiction 1)

Thus begins a series of entries into a short, fictional story.

It has been raining for three days. Rain doesn't come here often, and when it does, it is gone just as quickly. This doesn't have anything to do with what happened recently, because I don't believe in the foolish idea that emotional distress brings rain. I like the rain. Keep the temperature down and throw in a breeze and I'm happy. I'm sitting on my front porch, listening to the rain and watching the trees move. I don't live near anyone, so the experience is much more involving. Clever me, I had bought a CD with nothing but rain sounds. 5 bucks wasted this week. With that in mind, I get up and start walking. The weather is now almost perfect. Rain is dying down, and all that is left is the cool breeze and grey shaded clouds. As much as I love this weather, I can't enjoy it because of the memory currently occupying my mind. What happened? .... I continue to walk. It is getting dark now. I make my way up a small path to the top of the hill. I have an incredible vantage point here. I can see more than a few miles around, but luckily there is no highway or city block in my path. An image of Jackson's Middle Earth comes to mind. I really like those movies, by the way. No hobbit feet for me, I am much too tall for that. But I do feel the need to start a journey...