Titling your last post See Myself In The Pouring Rain can have ramifications.
I'm soaked. But I like it.
It starts with a test drop of rain hitting the train window and someone tutting. That's all the worker raindrops need to hear to start them covering the window in patterns that spell get ready.
The people made entirely of sugar fondle their umbrellas and look extra pleased with themselves for making good early morning decisions.
Me? I'm not so worried. If it's not raining when I leave in the morning, I'm not carrying anything I don't have to. If I get wet on the way home, I'm okay with that.
Halfway home, I'm soaked and breathing in the lovely smell of summer rain. It's like a haughty mixture of relief and hope tempered with grass like it smells at no other time.
Cars can splash at me and I keep on grinning and going. I'm still smiling by the time I get home.
Chelene and her pals know what I'm talking about.