Simple Beauty

It inspired this random story:

She stares out the window at the rain, watching a single drop of crystalline purity slide down the window in front of her. The shimmering trail left behind sparkles like diamond, reminding her of all she has. Dancing, she feels like dancing as the patterns the rain paints on the walls do. She feels like dancing to celebrate her good fortune in life, her new house, and the friends who helped her paint the walls. The joy wells up in her eyes and mirrors the rain on the windowpane. Then the dream wears off and reality seeps back in to her view. She isn't in her new home, that place never was, perhaps never will be. For a moment she panics, do the friends who helped her paint the walls of her dream not exist either? But no, they do exist; the photograph of them reassures her. Is that all that is real? Yes, but her friends are enough. No, she looks up and sees the rain gliding effortlessly down the window; there is still the beauty of the rain too. It makes any wall it blesses with its dancing pattern's grace priceless until the rain ends. And it does, and the beauty is gone and it’s just wet and soggy outside. But she still has her friends. With that though she gets up and walks out the door and walks through the puddles and the few, annoyed people on the streets. And the joy inside her wells up in her eyes again and mirrors the last few drops of the rain slipping off the nearby cars until she is there. Her friends are quick to worry and ask what’s wrong but she just tells them nothing can be wrong now. And she knows that nothing can be wrong now that the rain has taught her how much she really has.


There are two possible explaination for this story:
A: Really good poem (which it is, by the way)
B:My allergy pills just wore off (which they did)
B.5: its late (that too)