“Fat raindrops are starting to fall and no doubt it's only a matter of time before the sky is throwing buckets of water in my face.”

“Everyone carries a bucket of water and a bucket of gas in life. A leader has learned to throw the right one at the right time.”

“The sun is a hammer. I can feel one side of my face start to cook. The blue sky is glossy and fat with heat, a few thin cirri sheared to blown strands like hair at the rims.”

“I fear, in my dark hours, that it hungers for me and that it is only a matter of time before it eats its full of my sanity.”

“Both of my hands wove into her hair again and clutched at the soft curls. No matter how I tightened my grip, the strands kept falling from my fingers, a shower of water from the sky.”

“He wonders how so much water can resist the pull of so much gravity for the time it takes such pregnant clouds to form, he wonders about the moment the rain begins, the turn from forming to falling, that slight silent pause in the physics of the sky as the critical mass is reached, the hesitation before the first swollen drop hurtles fatly and effortlessly to the ground.”