Rain symbolises sadness.

Otherworldly forces pissing on your chances, dreams, and hope.

To me, rain was incredible. Impossible. And it was falling… down

Down.

Down.

My permanently downcast neck strained to the neon and metal bordered heavens above. Shit. Fire sprinklers.

In a city devoid of most wood or anything remotely natural, especially within the lower sectors you’d think it impossible. Like rain. Unlike rain however I’ve seen fire kill.

Maim.

And lick.

Flickering tongues consumed with the passion of food, it’s fuel.

Humans.