You know when it’s raining there’s that distinct smell? It is earthy and fresh. It is staying inside at break time, watching it dribble down the glass windows whilst we play cards. It is running in from P.E, changing out of sodden sport clothes with dripping hair. It is holidays in Cornwall, rain drumming on the roof of the tent and dripping down the edges. It is sitting on a bench after being broken up with, watching the snails dodge the droplets. It is spring evening walks, trying to clear your confused and muddled head.

It’s cleansing. It’s familiar. It’s rain.

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