‘Is it raining?’
Look out the fricking window and see.
Leans to follow my mental retort. ‘Tsk, it’s raining.’
‘And it was so nice this morning, could have been summer.’
I know, I was here too.
‘Now look, it’s like winter out there. Ugh!’
Fifty years later and rain is still noteworthy. Wow.
Moves closer to the window and looks up at the sky.
‘Has it been like that long?’
Keep staring at the clouds, they might tell you.
‘I don’t know,’ I say, glancing out the window to pretend I’m a nice, engaged person. I haven’t been staring out the window keeping tabs.
‘I wonder will it stop…’
Nope, never. Build an ark. Now.
‘Hmmm,’ I reply. I wonder.
‘In a bad mood today?’
I make eye-contact. Smile.
‘Nope! I don’t mind bad weather!’ I live in Ireland. I carry an umbrella.
Looks at me like I’m one of those weird ones.
‘Really?’ Laughs gratingly.
‘I think it’s easing off. I’ll make a dash.’
Yes, run! Run for your life!
Mumble, ‘Ok then.’ Mutter, mumble, ‘see you then.’ Mutter, mumble, pats around for keys, mumble, ‘ok then, bye.’
Sighs in relief. Volume of rain doubles. Teehee