The rain keeps falling like a heavenly suicide club, so eager that each droplet barely leaves space for individuality, all the water in the world condensed into a sheet, flagellating itself against the ground. Liquid corpses pool in immortality below my deck, their moaning susurrations drowned beneath the familial patter-splash drumming of the departed. I watch with envy while the water grows, puddles of kismet formed into a body of one mind denied. I’m fascinated by their solidarity and long to acquiesce. I lay myself upon the ground and stare into the clouds, wondering what evaporation feels like.

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