Rain

The weather phased in and out of rain all day.

Lucy pulled the hood of her anorak tighter, glancing briefly up at the mist-shrouded sky. The rain was thickening again, the sky fading. She ducked under a tree, not quite low enough, and for a moment droplets rattled in her ears.

Another quick look showed her the sky was still darkening. Lucy ducked under the fence, really no more than a metal bar meant to keep people like her out of the park, and tried to make a short cut across the corner to Liege St. She was halfway across when the rain came in again, surrounding her. Her foot slipped on grass already slick from earlier and tipped her onto her rear. Water smeared her glasses and dripped into her mouth.

She pushed herself back to her feet, swallowing and wiping grass and soil from her pants. Lucy was careful not to slip again before reaching the opposite corner of the field. The rain continued to thicken, until it would have been almost impossible to see even without water smearing her glasses, and the only sound was the rattle of water on asphalt, leaves and concrete rising in sweeps with every gust of wind. She unchained her bike by feel. There was no chance of riding it in this.

So she walked, bicycle by her side, rain pitter-pattering all around her and the chill wind blowing through her clothes to lay its touch against her skin. She walked quickly and encountered no one else in town.

The rain faded slightly as Lucy passed through the outskirts of town, enough to make her destination faintly visible. She smiled to see the familiar vine-draped structure atop its hill.

By the time Lucy reached the path to her door the rain had faded as much as it ever did. It still fell, continuously, transparently, a dozen faint drops passing through Lucy's hand when she held it out a moment. It was possible to see, now, out past the aging tower Lucy called home and far, far over the edge of the world until the rain turned everything to grey haze. Only the merest hint of movement at the edge of her vision suggested something might swim this endlessly falling sea.

If she had waited and sheltered beneath a shop awning she could have ridden home now.

A Thousand Suns Swirl And Drift Away

This morning, early morning for once, I go to let the dog out. My hands are wet and the sun is newly risen; dew twinkles everywhere it can. I raise one hand to shield my eyes from the sunlight and what do I see? It looks as though I am smoking, burning in the light. But of course I am not burning. It is - I think it is - moisture boiling off my hand and recondensing in the cold air of a winter morning. I see the little droplets swirl and flow like water stirred or a flock of tiny birds. I see a dozen minute, momentary rainbows flashing in my little cloud.

Okay, I have been known to pun myself from time to time

But this... this is the worst...

Words fail me.