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the night beat its worn fists against the billowing skies as the open humidity permeated below; the thought of puncturing a sack came to mind.
tonight, there was a thrashing; a shower like none other, the low clouds hung heavy with the weight of meteorological arrivals.
the sounding of thunder rang and resonated throughout, like the vibrant clanging of bells from a high tower.
thin flexing shared hopes of remaining dry were lost amidst the guests at dinner; a wet and shared satisfaction of consuming foods while being consumed slowly by weather.
the waters lapped against the sides of out taxi; the machinery confused, as it meandered through the odd tides in the streets.
tiny boys and various people stood on stools against the walls of the buildings; these walls barely covered by the hanging eaves with wide slits in the spread cloth.
in the middle of the intersection, i saw a traffic officer in an orange raincoat; it shimmered bright and elegant against the surrounding vehicles' collective high-beams.
with a whistle clasped tight, his pants were cuffed in a high pleat well above his calves, and his feet were bare in the shallow waters.
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