It’s raining. A soft drizzle. Gentle in its insistence. Coming straight down. It’s been raining since the wee small hours. I awoke at around 1:30 am this morning to hear its soft plink plink against the window. There was something rhythmic in its random symphony. So subtle it lulled me quietly back to sleep only to wake me again later, at around 5:30ish. I think it was lonely, wanted conversation. It had been quietly calling to anyone who would listen, ‘hey there, hey there, hey there…’ I spent a few more minutes listening but again, it lulled me back to sleep. A wonderful, dream-free sleep. And now? Sitting here, once again, it’s mesmerising me, gently lulling me to drift off into a tumble of random thoughts thinking of the ethereal world just beyond ours. Of fairies and gnomes, pixies and sprites. The curtain of rain a thin gossamer divide between two worlds that, if I look hard enough, I’ll see them, there. Waiting. Maybe it’s not the rain calling me but the Fay world beyond. Beckoning me to come play. I think I can see the sun shining out the corner of my eye, just beyond the veil. 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧