When he woke up he was alone. The rain was still rattling the window panes. The amphibian orchestra had bowed out. The ancient ceiling fan made another futile attempt to stir up some breeze. A lonely mosquito with a blood filled stomach was lazily buzzing around. A jecko's warning echoed in one of the distant corridors. The house creaked under the weight of the soaked thatched roof. How long will it endure the onslaught of the elements? Will I be there when it happens? Will we perish together? Or will we go on to see another monsoon?
All the rants and raves from a brain that has endured decades of anthropological abuse.
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