The sun returns, for awhile, and the soaked world again begins to dry a little. It’s funny though, I am less than pleased. Like someone betrayed, or someone merely exhausted by the games, I feel resentful rather than grateful. Too many false starts, too little reliable light. What a fickle lover. What a jerk. Needing and needing for so long, for the moment I have lost the capacity to bask in the sun when it does shine.