A new story...."The Rain Children"

I remember the first time I saw them. I was sitting in the main room, soaking in the warmth of the old fireplace, listening to the rain pour down on the tin roof. Sipping my tea, trying to concentrate on my current research paper. I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. Was it on the porch? Did I really see something through the window? Shaking a feeling of uneasiness from me, I resumed the tedious, boring task of editing my new addition to the files of research papers that seemed to never end, or ever begin. Someone must be interested I thought to myself. Some publisher, some scientific magazine, maybe the small town paper? Who was I kidding I thought. Interested in my boring papers on the indigenous native American tribes in Georgia. Then their it was again. That feeling, that movement in the corner of my eye. Was I really hearing laughter? I stopped. I suddenly knew I was being watched. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. A warmth spread down me. Slowly I turned toward the windows looking out on the porch, knowing that something , or someone was there watching me, studying me. And as I turned, I found myself looking at a face pressed to the window staring at me with what seemed to be utter curiosity. It was the face of a child, but it wasn't a child. No this was something not quite human, but something so human-like it looked like it was born out of the very earth itself. The very damp earth. Covered in moss, green and brown like an article of clothing. Eyes wide with extremely long lashes, a hint of green to it's exposed skin on its face. A creature the size of a small child, except rail thin and bony. Ears that seemed to point northwards, a delicate nose, and relaxed mouth. And what was that on its back? A hint of a wing?
There I sat, and there it stood, watching me with a curiosity so strong I could almost feel it.
And then reality started to fade back in, and I heard the distant sound of children's laughter; eerie yet soothing, just like the cold rain. And as I turned my head to find the source of the laughter, I caught movement again in the corner of my eye. Looking back to the window the creature was gone; but a delicate hand print was left on the window, as though welcoming me, asking me, wanting me, to come outside and play.

This is just a story that I jotted down in my notebook tonight. I got the idea for it this morning siting at my vanity, getting ready for work, and listening to the rain pour down. It's not to grand, just something simple. I thought I might share even though I am a tad bit timid about sharing my stories. I can't spell, and the spell check doesn't seem to want to work for me, so please excuse the errors.