She asked me to shop for her; my ankles, knees, elbows, hands ached so badly.
Never less have I wanted to go.
Nevertheless, I went.
As I walked out the door, it began to drip-drop upon my skin sharp and cool.
"Rain! Damnable rain! The damnable rain in all of Spain! Damn it down the drain! Not for all the tea in Spain would I walk in this rain!".
I think those were my exact words - I don't know why I bothered to rhyme in such a mundane time.
Look, there's another hiding.
But then, I recalled how you said you liked the rain. And I realized it wasn't so bad.
The rain wasn't just getting me wet, you see...
It was cooling my anger, washing clean my consciousness, waking me from the sleep of drudgery, and... the pin-prick cuts of cool-hot water pierced me like tiny needles sowing together my fragile heart.
I thought of you and hoped for the best.