The Bear and Barnacle

The Jokers stringy green hair whipped in the biting wind, and he blinked the dripping water out of his eyes.

It had been raining for what seemed like forever, the water was now puddled up everywhere in the town, and there were streams running along every street, some almost small rivers. It was cold, it was miserable...and he was smiling.

The particular street he was standing on happened to be slanted downward, right through the main section of Margate businesses. And each gutter had it's own mini-Nile flowing, one to his right and one to his left. And swimming merrily down each river, right past the buildings, were hundreds of rubber ducks.

With laughter that could be heard even over the howling winds, he jumped into his waiting innertube and hydroplaned down the hill with his tiny yellow minions flanking him.

Rivers of water poured off the roof, cascading past the windows into the mud that, until recently, was a small herb garden.

The house was old enough to creak and make occasional noises as it was. With the wind and rain pounding at it for days and days, the house was practically playing a symphony. Lucius normally enjoyed the rain, at the Manor. He and Narcissa would use the foul weather as an excuse to lock themselves into the library...or the bedroom. He sighed and sipped at his glass of wine, looking out the window at the storm. Several books lay haphazardly strewn open along the table, a reminder of failed attempts to distract him.

This wasn't the Manor. It was a small (to him), dark, empty house, not his home. And, most importantly, there was no Narcissa. He was trapped in this place with no one, no connection to his former life.

Despite the roaring fire in the fireplace, he shivered with a cold that ran much deeper than his skin.