Rain

This afternoon I overheard a couple of elderly gentlemen talking as they moved ever onwards towards the bottom of a bottle of local schnapps. They talked of the memories of their youth; of a time when the sky's were coloured other than tones of grey, of white clouds and blue skies. I had go laugh. But they continued, the air was warm they insisted, heated by a thing called the sun, its still there, one of them said pointing cloudwards through the increasing torrents beyond the window. True, said (or should I say slurred, the bottle almost gone) and then there was the moon as well, someone saw it only days ago, large and silver coloured, through a break in the clouds. Irked by their nonsense I grabbed my umbrella, emptied their bottle and slouched out once more into the wet, grey wilderness of the city. ..