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There was very little you could do when the rain came, save wait. The dry earth opened and the rain came and filled the floodplain, the dusted earth and the city stuck improbably there. One minute the hot night wind, the next the rainfall, thick-sheeted so heavy you could hardly breathe. You and everything else, all the lives found there, trapped, stopped helplessly for this.
You study your face, the way your lips draw down, the lines about the eyes, the same usual things, the things you notice only up close at the hairdresser's, in the bright lights of the women's toilets, the car mirror. And what is it you see? What mystery, or puzzle to be apprehended, ...