Storm

I watched the rain fall down from the sky outside my window, and I thought about her.

And true, most things reminded me of her in some way, but this was different. Rain always played a part in our lives together, it seemed.

We met when I offered her my umbrella to cross the field in the rain.

It was raining when I said I loved her, it was raining when she said she loved me,  it was raining when we first made love.

But it wasn't raining when she had the car crash.

Might have washed the oily road.