26 May 09 AM

It's raining, just to reinforce the tedium of the end of the long Bank Holiday's freedom. It's the kind of rain that makes me wonder why I'm carrying an umbrella, as it dances up to defy gravity and gently dowse my face and freshly ironed hair. In fact, it makes me I wonder why I'm wearing makeup, or indeed if I still am. Judging from the glances of some of my parallel commuters, it appears that it's certainly not all where I put it only minutes ago.

The air is still weighted down with the warmth of the weekend sun, but the rain brings a cold edge. It reminds me of late evenings in the summer playing in the sprinkler on the lawn, the soft grass and scorched earth under bare toes radiating back the heat of a long summer's day, whilst the icy cold water spatters against skin. But it's too early to give in to the calls of dinner and sleep and the prospect of another week at school just yet. Even if it is nearly dark and the shadows appear to shift ominously, now indiscernible from the trees from under which they creep...