The raindrops form a mosaic of circles on the glass-pane that slowly coalesce to form tiny rivulets streaming down the pane, teasing the dirt particles on the way and then carrying them along, leaving behind a brown trail. A game we used to play as kids- join the dots.
The rain stops.
“Typical”, I mutter, going back to my work. But then a spattering sound takes me by surprise and I look up to find the brown trail completely washed away. The faint smell of wet earth reach my nostrils, perhaps managing to percolate through the tiny gaps in the window pane of this air tight office or perhaps just my cranial recollection. I yearn to step out and get drenched.