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The Rainy Day Autumn Edmondson It was a rainy day; like any other day, but this day was different. This day someone, a girl to be exact, was watching. Her hazel eyes scanned the outer world from her windowed safe haven. She seems to curiously watch the rain flow down the slim, sculpted window and slowly takes in the calming, gentle waves seemingly radiating from the pitter-patter on the black, shingled roof. She then averts her eyes from the silver-lined window and gazes upon a scripted book. As she retrieves the small, crimson article; her sparkling eyes linger on the neatly scripted title. The book, appropriately named ‘VeronicaR