
You seem so benign, nary a disturbance to the puddles of water on a nearby roof. When I go outside, I can just barely feel you, gently caressing my skin so that I think it would be a fine time to get out on my bike, imagining you like a spa treatment, misting my face, keeping me young-looking.
And then I am on my bike and you are all around me, like a standing-water-soaked sleeping bag I am forced to spend the night in. You are not just coming at me from above, no, you are there from the side, from the bottom; you are a mystery as to how you can defy gravity, all in the interest of getting me soaked.
You are Super-Soaker Rain! You are sneaky, conniving and crafty. You defy umbrellas, raincoats, hats. You come in different strengths – super stealth, cat-sized and Gore-Tex beater.
You are now on the outside and I am warm and dry inside. Until we meet again.
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