Alabama rain.

rain patters softly against the window at a steady stream,
broken up occasionally by several seconds of deep rolling thunder.
from the third story classroom, students have ample opportunity to watch
as their downtrodden fellow classmates hurry into the building–
desperate to avoid the downpour biting at their heels.
streets like small streams cause each step to soak shoes,
drench pant legs, and further diminish morality on a miserable morning.
since arriving in the room the violent drumming on the roof has not ceased–
and with five minutes left in class, the mood since starting class has shifted
from hopeful, to doubtful, to drab.
the professor closes his book and looks outside, frowning slightly.
his car is parked several lots away.
he sighs to himself, reaching for his still-wet raincoat.
“well class, happy Monday.”

-ZCS

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