The rain wouldn’t cease it’s parade on the grounds around my home. It kept going all day, impassive to the needs of life below. For the plants the rain was a boon, but for the people it was a watery cage that kept us inside our homes for better or worse. No one could leave as the incessant tears fell and the icy wind howled like an injured banshee. Outside our doors was an apocalyptic death trap that used the sunshine to coax out desperate dummies into this beastly winter’s Sunday. Woe struck the hearts of the people and ennui strangled their senses. What else could they do but watch the day play out and the idiot box play indoors. Many discovered new ways to clean, others cooked what they had in their pantries and others still found old toys to occupy their listless hearts. For me, I transcribed many of my notes into my computer with a few glasses of whiskey to keep me company and a small black heater to keep me warm.
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No single work did more to question the conventions than what you now read. Welcome to my world. View all posts by Fictional Man