Rain.
The drop slid down my face, a small clean mark in the layers of grime and dust. Another drop fell. I caught it in my hand, letting it roll around, creating a large dot on the center of my palm, pale against the dark wet brown of the sandy soil.
My head flew back, welcoming any drop that landed there. The rain grew stronger. Bigger drops landed with splats on the leaves around me. The sky was a dark grey, a nice color compared to the brighter blues and white clouds of the summer months that were filled with sunshine and dust and ache. The rain fell faster, soaking me and chilling me to the bone. But I didn't care. It was rain.
My thoughts swirled away like the grime and hatred that was pouring off of me in a shower of droplets. But I noticed none of that. As I looked up at the bleak grey sky I could only think of one thing.
Rain.