A small black cat flops down and backbend stretches atop a wooden surface floor under bright overhead lights

There’s rain again, tomorrow and tomorrow, and there’s no census to capture every drop that flies past my window at work or that lands on the patio bannister or the roof at home. But I’ll see some of them again, maybe over by the greenway in the creek, or in the mist in highway lanes. Maybe they’ll see me too.

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