Crystal Ball

I wrote this short story in 2013.

It was a dark, drizzling day.

There stood a boy, holding a colourful parasol of vivid red, yellow, green, and blue. He opened it to the sky and closed, and then opened and closed again. He did it over and over, while sprinkling crystal-like water drops. He never knew weeds around him were a bit annoyed by that.

There was nobody else except for him. Only a dirty, big and old cat was watching him with no particular emotion on its face, from a distance.

I was gazing at the scene in a little crystal ball repeatedly.

And then I realized it was mere a dream when I woke up in the morning.