I stand in the yard, looking up, waiting for the rain to come. Lightning strikes, again, and again, teasing me, taunting me. I wait for the water to engulf me but I touch my face and find only sweat. I stand there for as long as I can, with my eyes wide, begging the sky for a reprieve, but the rain does not come, it will not come, and it does not come until the next morning when I am on my way to work, a few droplets fall on my windshield, then more, then they begin to pelt my car, and I start laughing hysterically until I realize I am not laughing, I am raining, too.