How it wets the air, drenching it to its last atom. Pouring through invisible winds, saturating each molecule of nitrogen infested flutter into wet whiffs of aqueous earth and slimy sidewalks.
I can't see it, but I can feel it.
As can you.
Torrential downpour, masquerading as an infant typhoon, it rages against my window panes. A steady stream of transparent pearls, tapping against the glass, In a voice so sonorous, it makes me ache.
This madness outside, in chaotic symphony of glorious sounds, beckoning me to be a little foolish; perhaps step out of my cocoon or drench the invisible shroud.
The window panes are cleansed. Spotless..not nearly as flawless..but unblemished still. Enough for me to peer out into your universe..and see you, through your glass walls.
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