I have learnt where to look for it. In puddles, against black windows, or in the plink-plonk of the dripping pipes. It is such an elusively obvious thing, rain. You know, but you don't know.

The man at the makeshift fruit stall, back bent over something, anything. Looking busy is so important. I knew what he meant. I sat with my notes in hand, hardly interested. Instead I listened to the slow droning of the radio at the fruit stall and wondered about fruits, rain, and time.

Was he happy? Was he not? Was he crazy, or just tired of it all? I tried to ask those questions of myself, and since I couldn't answer them, decided that whatever answer I derived for someone I didn't know would be equally stale and incredibly incredible. You know what I mean.

Time crawled. The fruitseller took no notice. He was tired of time, defiant; Let it pass, let it not. Why is it so important? I asked myself another unanswerable question, and wasted some crawling time fishing for an answer. Fish fish, plinkplonk. Time governs with an arbitrary government. It says that my assignment is due on a certain date at a certain time, but as I discovered, it doesn't really matter. Why let it threaten me, my peace and my life? It doesn't revolve around time, although I'm certainly stuck in it. Futility engages irritation. There IS a way out. Funny, the way out is really in.

In accordance with arbitrary tyrannism, I encountered an irate caller who demanded of me what I had decided was above my means. (Nothing is ever really above your means; But that constitutes giving life and breath to a thing you deem worthwhile, and that you may not.) Having been pressured into a psychological edema so pervasive I could have screamed, I stoically replied that almost anything could be done to me and I would have merely flinched to hide a smile. Do as you wish, you have no hold over me. You are, after all, no less mortal than I. If you were any more mortal I would have forgiven your oversight, and if you were any less, I would not have expected it.

On a lighter note than rain, I have grateful thanks to music, friends and love. Rested and preserved, my Father will not have me fall. I am grateful.