Literally. It would be over the top to speak figuratively of such a thing. For today is nothing but a normal Sunday. But it is dark. It is almost noon now and the light outside is still 6 am light. The sky is a dense unmeasurable pewter. Everything is dripping and glazed. The rain is like needles, almost always invisible, but audible, the world alive with drips and drops and sprinkling.
If you are desperate for the bathroom, I apologise for my imagery. A day not to go outside. A day where if you don’t have to work you are happy for that. You need music for this day. Music with bright horns? Or sad lonely wailing women’s voices? No big bass beats. Early jazz seems right.
We have had a beautiful autumn so far, dry, bright, clear skies, incredible stars. Now maybe we pay for our joy. The forecast is for rain most of the week. Death by water? I can swim.