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The Reign of Rain

The crack of thunder woke him up from his midday slumber. *Thunder in the middle of the afternoon?* He briefly glanced outside his window to see that the skies had turned grey and the clouds looked heavy, almost pregnant with cold liquid that would ruin his plans of going out. He checked the time on his phone: 1:14pm. His laptop was still on and he was on his Browser application. He squinted his eyes as he looked closely and saw it was Read.Cash. Damn! He thought. Before the brief spell of drowsiness overcame him, he'd wanted to write an article, but a lack of inspiration made that impossible. He stands up, stretching and hearing cracks here and there as gas bubbles pop in the synovial membrane around his joints. He was supposed to be out this day, but the rain had fallen. He was almost grateful; going out with a face mask on was becoming a pain, but the Government wasn't hearing any of it. With hungry, hefty-bribe-collecting police officers on patrol, the safest place to be was at home. The rain was now falling with reckless abandon. A constant pitter-patter of raindrops on his roof drowned out the Afro Pop music he was trying to listen to. Undoubtedly, it was time to write something, and this was affirmed by a brief spell in which the rain ceased, and then rapidly increased in crescendo. He slowly typed away at the laptop, pausing once a while to listen for changes in the rainfall. None. When he was done, he hit the send button as he turned on the water heater. A hot shower would restore his body to factory settings.

*************************** **This is me, and it's based on how I felt as the rain began to fall. I think I write poetry, but in a prose form :I**

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