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Rain on my Sunday

She pushes me out of bed because she can and because I can't get up by myself when I can hear the soothing pitter patter of rain. The shower takes major ear focus and the rain is briefly forgotten, only to be re-introduced on leaving the house. Breakfast at a Purple Breakfast shop is accompanied by Jasmine Green tea and a bacon and egg on toast. The New York Times tells me much I didn't know. I leave the table feeling full and the day has just begun.

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Rain On Roof

What is it about the sound of rain, one wonders, that makes the bed just that much more inviting, the sheets so much harder to escape?

This would have been a different story, I'll bet, if it was set on a Monday.

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You too?

Maybe it's the ritual drumming of little water feet that hark back to the prehistoric days when we were confined to caves to mate or sleep instead of getting wet and dying of pneumonia because we hadn't invented medicine yet... So we sleep as the rain massages our ear drums.