It's raining.

It’s 22.54. I might be the only one, but I adore this weather. I could live it in it everyday. This sense of macabre just lulls in the air, weighing down all the clouds. And it threatens. For hours, minutes, it threatens to pour. Then it does; that first drop of rain, that unearthing of dust, the darkening of the pavement. It’s all beautiful. It’s so serene, like the world is connecting with you. And in the silence of everything, the raindrops cull your racing mind, your racing thoughts, your racing heart.