[ IP ] Write a short story or poem around one of these lesser known words for emotions we feel but did n't know existed .

I ’ ve always loved it when there was a heavy rain outside. I mean, I never actually liked being out in the rain. I ’ ve just always found a sort of... peace in the sounds of the droplets pitter pattering against the windows and roof. When I was younger, though, I used to be scared of the rain. Especially when it was accompanied by thunder and lightening. Then again, I think most children are scared of things that they don ’ t understand. Come to think of it... that fact just isn ’ t reserved to children. 
 
 But, once I found a love for literature, the occasional thunderstorm was more than welcome. Even more so if it was during the fall and winter months. I ’ ve never found a more relaxing type of day than curled up underneath a blanket by the fire, book in hand with a thunderstorm raging outside. It ’ s almost like a meditation for me. It clears my head and makes me feel as if I ’ m truly not on this Earth. Instead, I feel like I ’ m truly part of the story I ’ m reading. That I ’ m actually on grand adventures and defeating dastardly villains. 
 
 No matter how stupid it may sound, the simple fact of wasting the day away underneath a blanket with a book is like an adventure all on its own to me. It ’ s not exciting or dangerous or anything like that, but it ’ s relaxing. It ’ s like I get a free vacation whenever it rains. I ’ ve even used sick days in order to skip work if it ’ s raining. But, to anybody who experiences this feeling, too... can you really blame me? 
 
 It may be dark outside, but it ’ s almost as if an inner light is ignited inside of me. A light so strong that I can ’ t help but smile from ear to ear. As the first raindrops start falling against the windows, it ’ s almost as if the sky is hesitant. As if it ’ s asking for my permission to downpour. Every time, I say yes. Yes, you may release your celestial tears! Sometimes I feel silly for believing this, but I often feel like the sky actually listens to me sometimes. More often than not, I hear the first crash of thunder before I can finish making myself a cup of tea. 
 
 Which is a little bit disappointing, as I like to stand outside and feel the stillness of the air before the storm. But, beggars can ’ t exactly be choosers. Still, it ’ s not like I ’ m truly missing out. The best is yet to come, after all. At the first clash of thunder, I rush over to my extensive bookshelves and try to pick out a nice, comfortable read. I don ’ t want anything too complex, but I also don ’ t want anything too simple. Which leaves books like War and Peace and The Hungry Hungry Caterpillar out of the question. I usually just end up going with a mystery novel. Something just feels... right about reading a mystery story while it rains. Almost as if that ’ s the type of environment the author had meant it to be read in. 
 
 Usually by now, the rain is in a heavy downpour and the lightening is on the horizon. So, I quickly scamper over to the couch and plop myself down, throwing a large, warm and fuzzy blanket over my legs. If I happen to be wearing my pajama pants and fuzzy socks, it just makes the experience all the better. I place my mug of tea on the coffee table in front of me and I get into a position that ’ s halfway between sitting and lying down. Even if I ’ m dressed very raggedly and have taken my makeup off, I still can ’ t help but feel like a princess when I ’ m relaxing like this. 
 
 My cat, Gracie, always joins me on days like this and curls her white, fluffy self up in my lap. Even if I ’ m ready to go, I refuse to start reading until the storm is in full swing. I wait until the rain is completely and totally assaulting my home. I wait for the thunder to be as loud as mortars, loud and close enough for me to feel my home shake a bit. And I wait for the lightning to be able to illuminate my den, giving me a flash of extra reading light whenever it feels generous enough to do so. 
 
 And in this moment, I can ’ t think of any other time I can be more myself. Every muscle in my body is relaxed and more often than not, I can feel goosebumps rising up on my arms and legs. It makes every good quote in a book that much more impactful, every twist and turn that much more shocking and those romances all the more face blushing. To me, being indoors, all nice and warm with a thunderstorm outside is like being with a close friend or a lover. I feel like I ’ m in a cocoon of safety and joy. I feel trapped inside of a womb of absolute bliss. I feel as if this is my true nature. My true home. 

