Word count: 100
Waiting for their contact in the rain, Illya glanced at Napoleon.
‘Wonder why he is smiling? I hate the rain. It takes me back to my childhood alone and scared when it fell dirty from the sky and stinging with ash from burning buildings. The frightening thunder bringing back memories of bombings and death.’
Looking at Illya, Napoleon wondered why he was frowning? ‘I love the rain. It takes me back to those lazy afternoons, runny carefree through the raindrops with friends. The clean taste when caught on my tongue. The thunder adding to our imaginary battles in faraway galaxies.’