Day Seven

I love the rain. I don't like getting wet in my clothes (hence I wander about shoeless when it pours) however, nothing sets up mood like a grey rainy day. I open the curtains, and the window just a crack. I let the cold breeze in, but I try to keep the water from puddling on the floor. My coffee is sitting on the corner of the desk, and the smoke from the incense (Frankincence.) drifts up from the holder. Paint the picture, and the words come. How could they not, they're fighting to come out, just as the rainwater fights towards the sea.