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Sun shines. Breeze blows. Grass glitters. Flowers bloom. Trees sway. Birds sing.

A car drives into a parking lot. The driver bounds enthusiastically from the vehicle backpack in hand,

his impossibly wide hips scraping between the parked cars. Leaving the underground garage

whistling out of tune, he emerges onto the street cleaning his glasses. Squinting he stares into the

suns rays. The sun sees him, baulks and hides behind a cloud and refuses to come out. Itimmediately starts to rain.

All over the city, surprised patrons run inside with their dine-in coffee cups slopping and stand

dripping on the tiles. Proprietors everywhere sigh and avoid accidents by unhooking their trusty

yellow safety signs, warning customers about what they already know: its wet. Outside,

embarrassed women slide down slippery walkways on the tops of their legs, leaving behind broken

heels and their dignity.

A girls blonde ponytail swings as she runs along the footpath, picking her way clear of dripping caf

furniture and soggy pedestrians sharing the same saturated footpath. The ground is slippery, it is

bucketing down and her shoes are sliding around on her feet. At any moment she expects to get up

close and very personal with the pavement. Carefully now.

The bus slows and then slows some more before coming to an abrupt stop. Standing passengers

skate down the bus knocking into each other and sending personal belongings flying. Scrambling

their way off the bus, the passengers stand on the footpath rearranging clothing and dusting

themselves off and are greeted with an abrupt downpour.

The fat man crosses the street ignoring the beeps and honks of traffic opposing his pedestrian

decision. It is pouring; the drops sting his head and shoulders. He walks quickly but does not run.

Outdoor furniture gathers puddles of wet and reflects the thunderous clouds above. Baristas go into

overdrive, churning out coffee in time with the fall of rain. The few with umbrellas seem determined

to collect an eye on every spike, shielding themselves from the weathers effects and affording

themselves some cosy personal space at the cost of blinding a city.

A giant stands at a curb watching the gridlock. Cars inch, bumpers touch, lightning flashes, rain

plummets from the sky. Nice and dry and protected by his trusty umbrella, he spots a gap and

crosses the street. Once safely on the other side, largely dry and untouched, a car speeds past and

hurls muddy water at his pants. The giant roars.

Traffic converges from nowhere. The road rules immediately change with weathers wetness. The

streets congest with public transportation and delivery vans, family sedans and sports cars. Horns

blare and compete with thunder. The traffic no longer politely hiccups but now rudely belches its

way through the morning sending frustration soaring and adding to the body count.

Leaping over a puddle, a curly-haired imp of a girl giggles and flings out her arms to embrace the

rain, knocking down a bike messenger who had decided to mount the pavement to avoid the

gridlock. She is immediately contrite and profusely apologises for laying a finger on him, to which he

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gives her a finger in response. She shrugs and lets the deluge slap her upturned face.

At the red Dont Walk signs, a few pedestrians brace themselves against the frigid torrent with one

eye on the traffic lights, another on the traffic. Adding adrenaline to the food groups, they breakfast

on the held breaths of their fellow commuters before running the gauntlet in search of certain

death; sprinting across the slippery surface almost upending themselves and each other in theirsuicidal rebel bid to reach the other side before the green man advises to do so.

An immaculately dressed sophisticate walks daintily but determinedly through the crowd. Her hair is

protected by an umbrella, scarf and enough chemicals to warrant donning a Hazmat suit with every

application. The rain shies from hitting her seemingly aware that if it comes in contact itll melt and

kill her.

Smokers, desperate for a morning hit, struggle against the blast of cold elbowing its way through the

skyscrapers, blowing arctic air into every nook and cranny of their cupped hands and bent shoulders.

Across the city in suburbia a young man awakes in his bed. He leans across and tugs open the blind

to investigate the noise. Rain pounds its fists against the window begging to be let in out of the wet.

Nervousness tugs at his guts and wrenches him out of bed.

Inside every office block, mechanical umbrella stands form lines akin to toll booths, dispensing

plastic covers with the ease of a natural childbirth. Building staff supervise and ensure every

umbrella goes through the same difficult labour. Safety signs pave the way to the elevators, a

yellow-brick road to an inferior but no less wicked destination.

A tall thin man pats his hair and curses the sky. Lightning flashes. He is standing at a window

enjoying a cup of Earl Grey tea, watching the commuter chaos below and smirking at the confusion.

His arrogance is swiftly rewarded when a rude thump of thunder makes him jump and splash hot tea

in his eye.

All over the city, commuters are running late blaming the sudden change in weather for the sudden

lapse in time. Elevators are jam-packed and the weight limit alarm threatens. The smells of

unexpected sweat, sweetened coffee and damp clothes permeate the air. Being released onto a

floor is a welcome relief only for it to be squelched by the realisation of working the day with wet

panty-hose or soaked trouser bottoms.

Removing his backpack from his shoulder, the man with abnormally broad hips walks into a building.

Immediately the rain ceases, puddles evaporate and the sun hesitantly pokes out its shiny face from

behind a passing cloud and watches as the mans broad-buttocked bulk disappears inside the

building. Within moments the day warms to a beautiful summer morning.