Unlike Hero

The suns rays poured onto his dark head, it felt warm and inviting, but looking up the spilling of rain was imminent in the sky, massive dark clouds rubbed against each other like soft cushions. Easterly storm arriving, swiftly and without prejudice, it will consume the sky in a couple of minutes. Despite all the warnings Michael still decided to venture outside his house and take a brisk walk around, to where, at this time he cannot be sure.
A light wind came with it´s echoes of what was to come, reluctant none the less he kept his stride on the pavement, finding his mind wondering and when aroused by the external stimuli, he found himself comparing it with Mieko, the purple daffodils that he recently passed, a girl driving by on her bicycle, a song in the trees by a bird unseen but heard only by ears that were intoned so finely.