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  • Writer's pictureJan Avellana

The Rain Keeps Coming Down


The valley was so awash in rain this morning, that all I could see out my window was a mist of rain--the mountains were disguised back there somewhere, unseen and unsettled. I hunkered down for a few more minutes of shut eye, burrowing myself in blankets deep, wishing it weren't a work day.


Now, here at my work the rain keeps dripping into a newly formed pond outside my window. The pitter patter is like a metronome, and I find myself mesmerized by the constancy of the droning drips. Soft voices float outside my window now, children making their way to school under umbrellas and sweating in crinkly rubberized rain jackets.





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