Dylan Hayes (pushme) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2009-05-24 22:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | ares, dylan hayes |
Who: Dylan Hayes and Open
What: The downpour
When: Right after the storm starts
Where: Dylan's spot
In any other situation, the rain would have started gradually. Dylan Hayes, who sat in his usual spot on the sidewalk, backpack comfortingly pressed between his back and a brick wall, old MacDonalds cup in hand, would have felt a single drop of water, perhaps on the back of his neck. He then would have raised his head to the heavens and felt a few more droplets on his face. Drizzling would turn to droplets, droplets to rain, and rain to a storm. Not so tonight. Suddenly the sky was dark and he was hit with a lead-heavy torrent of water that soaked and chilled him to the bone. "Jesus!" He squeaked, and stood up in a rush, taking the opportunity of a bout of confusion that a tremendous clap of thunder provoked to lift a passing pedestrian's wallet.