Tick Tick Boom

I'm up on the nineteenth storey, and looking out my window this evening allows me to gaze upon the glinting lights of other buildings flickering through the rain. There's a metal canopy above my window, which is open to let in a cool breeze, and as the drops fall against it they strike out a staccato rhythm.

The darkness is punctuated by flashes of lightning, thunderclaps add a rumbling bass to the rainstorm's song. This is my favourite sort of weather sometimes, full of bright lights, irregular and changing songs, and layers of subtle scents.

I stare out my window, coffee cup clutched in my hand, taking it all in; this is my nightly show here in Singapore.

The End

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