The old man was snoring.
It was raining. It was pouring. The old man was snoring, so loudly that he didn’t hear his front door creek open. It was raining. It was pouring. The old man…
It's Raining... thank God!
‘It’s Raining Again!’ Someone calls. They groan, I wonder why. Everyone is moaning about how bad their hair is going to look by the time they get back over to…
It was raining.
It was raining. They fell with meaty thumps, the faint scritchings and scrapings combining to a hissing, throbbing roar as they humped themselves back the way…
Out in the rain
The rain made a soft slapping sound as it splashed on his upturned face. The drops were warm against his skin - carving paths through the grime and dirt on his…