Rain was pouring down.Rain was pouring down. Endless rain, it seemed, coupled with a cloud that obscured my already limited vision even further. It’s not like I leave my house very often. In fact, I hardly ever even leave my place at the gap in the curtain, in front an all-glass wall. It’s not like I go to work, like the people who scurry about the streets every day, more often than not hidden by their black umbrellas , shielding themselves from the never ending downpour. Mere specks of black on a grey pavement, in a colour less world. The 42nd floor is a long way up, but I barely notice it anymore. The few people who visit me wonder how I can live like this; a set of small rooms high in the sky, with glass walls all around, framed by the heavy cream-coloured curtains with the smudges at the bottom, indication of my presence as a child. The fingerprints and brushstrokes a reminder of the happy days with the paints spread out on the dark carpet, looking out of this very window and attempting to dRain was pouring down.
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