The evanescent red-orangey hues of the sky were beginning to morph into an inky night as the Sun started to set.  It was monsoon season and the clouds moaned, flooding the land beneath them with their tears. All was silent and tranquil besides the heavy downpour and the occasional white flash and boom of thunder.

Amir made his way, trudging along the slippery slopes of a cracked road path on the way to the pottery shop and he covered his head with his arms to shield himself from the rain. After a few more minutes of careful walking, the young man abruptly stopped for a moment in his tracks and he inhaled the earthy smell and the humidity around him. The trees swayed slightly as a gentle breeze blew and it made Amir pleasantly shiver. Despite the incessant torrent of rain, he put his arms by his side and gazed at the gray sky that had scanty patches of blue here and there. He closed his eyes and he let the rain fall on his hair, droplets dripping down on his forehead and streaming down his olive brown face. His clothes were soaked but he was nonchalant about his wet, dripping state. Instead, he was overwhelmed with a peculiar sense of satisfaction, one analogous to that of intoxication as he just stood there oblivious to all but the heaven’s deluge.

Amir had always loved the rain. He liked the sunshine and rainbows too, but the rain always provided him company. As a young boy, he loved to play in it and found amusement in the sky’s adrenaline. And now as a young man, he found solace in it as his tears would always be camouflaged by the empyrean’s grieving, for in times such as these, a man cannot cry. He simply cannot. And, best of all, Amir loved the rain because it always washes away everything, eroding away the rocks. Amir sighed and he shook his head and continued along.

Alas, he arrived at the pottery shop. He smiled as he pushed the door open, hearing the customary ding ding noise from the bell whenever someone entered. If there was one thing Amir loved more than the smell of soil after it rains, it was the fresh aroma of clay when a potter is at work. He scanned the shop and saw the usual pots, in various shapes, sizes, forms, and designs scattered everywhere. His eyes rested on the quiet but sagacious potter. She was old and blind but a sharp woman. At the sound of the bell, she perched up and she raised her hands, covered in clay from the turning of the wheel below her.

“Amir, dear. Is it you?”

Amir chuckled and walked toward her. “Yes, Heloise. It is me. How are you?”

Heloise attempted a feeble smile but it withered away as fast as it came. “It’s getting worse,” she whispered. Her hands reached out toward Amir, trying to feel his presence. Amir took her calloused hands that were surprisingly tender and knelt down before her. He looked at the old woman. Her gray hairs were turning white and the stress had accentuated the wrinkles on her face over the past few months.

Heloise gently touched Amir’s face. “Amir, if there’s ever such a thing as both a blessing and a curse, it would be blindness. Most times, it’s a blessing, but every now and then, like when the bell dings and you enter, oh, it’s a curse.”

Amir shook his head and held her hands. “Heloise, you don’t need to see me,” he reassured. “I’m always here.”

Heloise sighed. “It’s getting worse. Much worse,” she said, worriedly. And then she gripped Amir’s arms firmly and if she had sight, she would have looked at him gravely. “Amir, you must be careful.”

“I will,” said Amir. “I promise.”

Ding ding.

“Liya, is that you?” asked Heloise.

Amir got up. “Yeah, it is. Hello, Liya.”

Liya shut the door and closed the shades. “It’s getting worse,” she whispered frantically.

Amir nodded his head in acknowledgment. “I know, Heloise just told me.” Amir widened his eyes as he saw a trickle of scarlet ooze from her arm and started to approach her. “Liya, are you bleeding?”

Liya stepped back and withdrew her hand. “Don’t worry I’m fine.

“Liya-

“I’m fine Amir! Amir, I’m fine. Nothing to be surprised about anyway, these days. Also, you have much more important matters to tend to!”

Amir sighed and shifted uneasily. “The taxes are getting worse, aren’t they?” he asked softly.