On the inversion of natural things.

The rains falls. More to the point, the rains falls down. It had always done so, or so the boy was told. From the top, to the bottom. But he wondered what would be of it, if one day, the rain fell – flew? – up. Would the rainbow afterwards be upside down too? Maybe rivers would turn on their curse, and waterfalls inverse. It would be such a beautiful thing!

But, as he was brought back to by thunder, the shinnying pictures in his mind were shattered. Such a thing would never happen. That was not the way of the world – the world that sometimes was as others pleased, sometimes as the world itself, it seamed, pleased, but never, never as he pleased.

He tried to distract himself by imagining what if his tears ran in instead of out, and cried harder when he couldn’t.

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