The sky is forebodingly dark, and I hesitate outside the subway station for a moment: do I continue on to the library as planned, knowing that it’s going to rain (nay, deluge) shortly, or do I head home and avoid the whole mess?
When I arrive at the library the ground is still dry, and the fountains outside burble contentedly, blissfully unaware of the thunderclouds hovering just overhead. I feel the faintest prickles of rain as I head inside.
When I have dropped off my returns and picked up my books, I head back to the door, and on my way there pass several drenched and bedraggled folks staggering in, while outside the library what looks like an impenetrable wall of water buckets down on the plaza.
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