Rain in the desert is a thief.
May 9th, 2014, 9am
It was 10°C with few clouds. There was moderate breeze.
It sinks into the pockets and hidey-holes, reaching where it has no right to be. It steals the horizon, unanchoring you. You float in a suddenly unfamiliar city. The rain has stolen the light and your best attitude, like a robber takes your jewels, your computer, your best memories.
It would be best to go back to bed. The rain-thief can’t find you there.
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