The rain is relentless in its onslaught, striking all those before it in its rampant invasion of our realm. From its bastions of cloud, these wet food soldiers of simplicity know no fear as they throw themselves aimlessly onto the arms of their foe. The arms which its foe continues to bear against each other in an empathetic spiral of pitiful self destruction. Even now, in that dark and dank back alley of untold depravity, did the cold iron barrel of death stare blankly at the face of its victim. The man, no younger than forty and still crying for a previously abandoned god, still scrabbling for an escape as the emotionless face of his oppressor blinked slowly in the enshrouding downpour.

"We all die sometime."

The rain washed away the blood.

The wind carried away the smoke.

The thunder carried away the scream.

"We all die alone."