I woke to the malicious pitter-patter of raindrops on my face, a bleeding head and a large lump of timber. The damned thing must have become dislodged and had chosen to fall just as I was underneath it. Naturally, I had managed to miss the entirety of the day, and the purple was gently absorbing the blue in the sky, making dusk out of day.
Seeing as I had been ungraciously handed sleep all day, I was in no mood to challenge moonlight for another night. A nighttime stroll in the rain might help clear the cobwebs from my head anyway, so I weaved back through the attic and pushed open the useless lump of wood I had chosen to call a door. I sidled into my temporary bedroom, wearily closing the door behind me - would the damn thing ever stay shut? - and getting the first aid kit to clean my fresh head wound. Dabbing my scalp with gauze, there was thankful little blood, so I added some alcohol, screamed expletives, and dried my head. With a final, withering look around the squalid room, which, from the look of the ceiling, was summoning more of the rain that had attacked my bedroom, I firmly closed the door and left the house.
Five minutes later, I went back into the house for an umbrella, the rain was quite heavy.
Genially walking down cracked tarmac, a convoy of sports cars sped past; clearly narrow, wet roads brings out the dickheads in the their overpriced automobiles - hopefully the perilous conditions would take a few of them out before the night was through