Yesterday the world ended.
Or so my human made me believe. A bit of rain, and some drops gotten into the flat. Oh, what a tumult. It made quite a splash (Ha! See what I did there? I’m a master of words).
Anyway, she became really quick. Hadn’t seen that before. Not quick enough for the carpet though. What suprised me was that I did not get the blame. I was standing in the way, watching the downpour from the huge window (it was closed, I am not THAT stupid), and she became very hectic, mopping up the water that flodded through the leaky French Window (why the balcony door is speaking a different language is beyond me, but maybe it’s the reason for the whole problem).
While she-human was towelling the carpet I enjoyed the view. One of the clouds was rather pretty I think (see picture). It was also the reason she-human got distracted and stopped mopping. Still I did not get the blame. Maybe she is ill? Should I be worried?
Humans have a strange relationship with their weather. They talk about it a great deal, they worry about it, they’re never happy or even satisfied with it. They complain about it constantly, to no one in particular. Some guy named Peter might have something to do with it. What makes it even more odd is the fact that this same Peter is somehow related to the guy on the stick. I don’t get it. My assumption is that the weather is a capricious god. Yes, I know, I know. All gods are capricious. But this one might be even worse than all the others. At least it gets a lot more attention than any of the others (except the one that gets all the blame for almost everything, father of stick-guy). Humans bring gifts to appease the weather (metal animals on rooftops), they pray for sunshine or rain, depending on what they’re supposed to do (and totally confusing the weather god, I’m sure), they endlessly discuss it, even on the telly, where special priests try to forecast it.
Does it help? I doubt it. But to the weather god’s delight he will be in people’s minds until the final flood swipes them all away. And that last paddling human will unquestioningly complain about the weather before finally sinking.