The beginning of fall marks the rainy season's demise. But not without resistance. It begins insignificantly enough, the thick humid air becomes a heavy mist...
...but then the mist becomes a drop becomes a puddle grows into a pond forms into a lake grows into a sea. And then the mist becomes a drop becomes a ripple forms a wave forms a storm surge. And then the torrent subsides, the water warmed from the sun becomes evaporation becomes a mist forms a drop. And etcetera becomes etcetera becomes and so on forms into and so forth.
The rains do what they like and what they like is destruction and a quote becomes a paraphrase...yet again.
A small leak along a seam forms a trickle becomes a drip destroys a foundation.
The swirling waters of the subconscious can be a treacherous place.
Day two-hundred and sixty-seven complete.
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