He loved rain that he didn’t have to be out in. This is not to say he only enjoyed rain from behind windows or under rooftops. Getting wet because there was no other choice in getting from A to B was irksome; sitting cold and wet in an office all day because of a forgotten umbrella was downright unpleasant; being in the rain because that was where you wanted to be, however, was glorious.

For being out and about in, he liked rain at dusk the best. The dusk and the rain conspired to pull the world in close around him, and everyone else was busy rushing on their way. Sometimes it felt like a blanket wrapped around. Sometimes it felt like swimming in the air, in the world, drinking it in. For being inside in, he liked night rain the best. It was the second best thing he knew to fall asleep to.