From under the canopy we watch the rain fall down. It is not heavy or cold. Just steady.
It keeps us from working. There is a lot to do. We are already two days behind. This will make three, unless the rain stops.
Jim sits in the corner, smokes.
Big Roy is cracking his knuckles.
I decide to walk into the rain.

Once, we rode out, pass the last of the strip malls silently designating the city limits. The trees have greened. Sometimes it catches me, how many different colors of green there are.
She took me into the hills, onto roads where dogs cross freely. She smelled lightly.