Flash

It started as if the big guy in the sky

or one of those other Gods
started flicking water

with little brushes onto the earth.

I laughed at those who raised umbrellas –idiots – and I saw in shop

windows that the rain nestled in my hair in a silver-beaded crown.

Pretty cool, huh? But then it started like really raining.

I wanted to steal an umbrella from the people

that brushed past me but I guess that would have been rude.

It was like the sea had been flipped over and drained through a colander,

so I got a newspaper from a cornershop and fanned it over my head.

The guy who served me in there made some fuss

about me stealing that Twix. I guess he’d never

heard of feed the poor and hungry and all that crap

but it’s fine now. But, to be honest, it's probably melted now.

Then, by the way, my newspaper got wet (like soaking wet). 
And I swear to God I was going to die from hypothermia

or some other cold-related illness - can you die from a cold? - 
and the drains were gargling

like when you use mouthwash, lean back your head and go aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh! 
I would want to go home, obviously, if i had one,

but it would be weird. But is strangling the cat really that strange?

David Ike’s probably right: the cliffs of Kent may well be

underwater now. I’m gonna drown out here, seriously. 

Maybe I won’t like seriously drown but rats might.

I should call a cab. 

I might as well ask for some spare change whilst I’m at it.