Story About a Fiery Past

The stormy weather reflected the storm of my life, some call it bad luck but I say that it's the mystery of life. I walked absent-mindedly around the once polished and furnished room, this place was my home. I loved the round oak tables, the solid wooden chairs, and the wash basin that seemed almost forgotten by time. I peered into the courtyard and noticed the towering stone nymph fountain was now dross and mossy, dead vines encircled and entangled it like fingers clasped around a wine glass. The grey clouds heralded the downpour of rain that filled the fountain and the waters shivered with every drop.
Everything cascaded into a mellow silence which harmonized beautifully with the now quiet droplets of rain. I reminisced the days when I lived here with my sister and she would sit on the piano stool on evenings. The soft notes fluttered around my head while the chorus of creatures lingered in my subconscious. After she finished, she would giggle and glance at me with her brilliant green eyes. Her smooth, pink skin stretched as she smiled mischievously. She would fiddle with her flaring velvet coat and gleaming blue sashes that fit perfectly. Back then I was happy that she could laugh even though we were alone in the world.