Wednesday, 09:17, Annecy
Wanted: a storm to slow me down. A rain cloud lasting two-days to force me indoors.
A warped frontal system centred on the British Isles drapes tendrils of rain across Europe and the Alps. Take snow to my friends. Bring rain to me.
Fill the air with water, lest my lack of waterproof clothing get in the way. An umbrella’ll have to do, in a downpour, enough to hold the wash from my eyes.
Clear my mind with water shed from the sky, from the lakes, from the sea. Wring out that Atlantic drawl. A long traverse of the ocean. Moisture-filled air dropping heavy across the continent, concentrated along the backbones and ridges of the mountains.
Elevate the terrain with a continental collision. Come forward if you’d like a day off with me. Holed-up in a bolthole with tea. To write and rebuild. Go deep into the third domain. Lift our spirits with time and the splash of these stormy pages.
Into the abyss. I’ll come with you, into an endless drizzle, foray.
Wanted: a raincloud for three.