Oh god, people. I can't take the rain anymore. It's not flooding here, because it stops and it starts but there's still never anything but grey: low, dark clouds against the higher, lighter ones, and the damp, soaked grey of the streets and buildings. Pale grey sidewalks when it's paused for a while, but always dotted with a few small, wet circles. No sun. No light. No heat. Everything is wet and cold, and the only sound anywhere is the hissing and dripping of the rain, until you almost cease to hear it, except that it haunts the back of your mind. It's depressing and isolating; no one wants to go out in it, so the only people around are alone under their umbrellas, or hunched into sweatshirts and coats, hurrying away.
Everything drips. Everything is wet and curled and wrinkled, like paper dropped in a puddle that shrivels in on itself in shreds and tatters as it dries. Everything smells like dead worms and mold and mud and old sweat.
I can't take it anymore. I'm pissy and depressed and any minute now I'm going to go curl up in the window and start reminiscing about past relationships and old friends and people I used to know, and wow, will that not go anywhere good.
Say something to cheer me up!
Everything drips. Everything is wet and curled and wrinkled, like paper dropped in a puddle that shrivels in on itself in shreds and tatters as it dries. Everything smells like dead worms and mold and mud and old sweat.
I can't take it anymore. I'm pissy and depressed and any minute now I'm going to go curl up in the window and start reminiscing about past relationships and old friends and people I used to know, and wow, will that not go anywhere good.
Say something to cheer me up!