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[shinkarasu]

The rain is not like the brisk ones of our youth, but angry, fat, violent drops screaming from the heavens.  No longer do we laugh and play in the puddles, thanking the sky for its life-giving gift.  Now we mumble and curse the sky as we run from place to place.   Children do not see it as we do, for they are blinded by innocence.  Our time for

Comments

[edwardbenedict]

I like it, Shorty. Sounds like that would make a not-bad beginning to some short little piece. You should see if you have anything more on the subject in you.

[gluedupsidedown]

That's what I was going to say. I wanted/needed to go somewhere.

And, it's lovely. And, let me know about that other stuff. Hah.

[poisonedblood]

happy w-day.