Riding, Reading and the Rain
The following is the result of riding the bus and reading Pratchett on another rainy day...
And the rain fell. So much had fallen for so long that most people believed they would never see the sun again. The more foolish ones assumed the bad weather would disappear with the changing of the seasons, but that hadn't happened at all. The icy block of winter had simply given way to the soggy lump of spring.
The effects of the rain were evident everywhere. In the country, rivers rose, trees fell, hills slid and fields flooded. The less paranoid farmers fitted their livestock with flotation devices. The more paranoid verified their ark manifests. In the city, roofs leaked, drains clogged and streets flooded. Sidewalks were so saturated, they were spongy and gave pedestrians an extra squish in their step.
The world was dripping wet. What it didn't need was more rain. What it wanted was a quick spin in the planetary dryer (with electronic moisture control to prevent shrinking) or, at the very least, a good toweling off. But as usual, it wasn't going to get what it wanted. And the rain continued to fall.
Categories
poetry and prose
