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I walked home in the rain today.
It was not a long distance, but the rain was so heavy I thought of Noah.
My small blue dress became translucent. It pressed hard against my body which was curved and bent against the storm.
I carried shopping bags filled with food for my cats.
I had less than five hundred meters to travel, and yet three meters was enough for everyone to be soaked to the skin.
All around me clothes revealed flesh beneath, giving it the muted taint of the damp cloth. A man with bluish muscle, a woman with rosy thighs.
My weighted hair, usually so light, stuck to my head, spread across my face and stayed there, as if it were struck against a wall and couldn't move.
My dress pulled down, heavy with carrying water, my large white breasts exposed more cleavage than usual, rain drops slipping between them like tears.
Some people ran and others accepted their fate and walked into the sheets of water pounding against them.
Solidarity.
A rare feeling of being understood. The rain made us one, gave us a common purpose.
I know why people talk about the weather.
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