The clouds are gathering.
They are heavy and dark.
The storm is brewing.
The wind is howling, lightning flashes and thunder rolls.
Bring in the shoes!
The storm is raging.
Shut all the windows.
The rain is pelting, pouring.
The shoes were left alone.
Forgotten, forsaken, they were.
They are all wet, cold, and drenched.
Caught in the storm, they were with neither shelter nor solace.
The storm is over now.
The sun chases away the dark clouds.
The light, puffy, white cotton clouds come out of hiding.
They happily waltz across the blue sky.
The shoes are left alone to dry up and warm themselves.
The storm had injected them with cold dampness.
The hot rays of the sun are soothing and warm.
They tightly hug the soaked shoes.
The shoes are thirsty.
The sun shines high and robust.
The hot golden rays scorch the shoes.
Parched, they stick out their tongues, begging for a little moisture to get them to another day.