The Downpour


A cloud loomed overhead as she looked out the window. A flash of lightning. A crack of thunder. 

"If you want to see who the true runners are, look outside during Mother Nature's next hissyfit."

The words--a clever tagline from a shoe advertisement--gnawed at her like the memory of a past sin. 

She hadn't even made it around the block when the hail started. Tiny white pellets screamed down from above while the sky roared. Thankfully, it didn't last long. The air quieted and a watercolor sunset unfolded across the horizon. But just when her shoes were getting dry, small dark circles began to dot the pavement. Within minutes, a soothing evening rain became liquid wrath.

She was breathless, drenched, cold, shivering. But the words didn't gnaw at her anymore.


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