Tonight John and I walked home from the clinic. It had just begun to sprinkle raindrops as we made our way down Bennet Road, but the drops grew in size and intensity, and soon it began to rain in earnest. We were both drenched to the skin. As it pelted down on us, we took off running for shelter. We waited for the rain to let up as we stood, dripping, under out new found refuge. Rivulets of water ran down my face and collected on my already soaking shirt. My ponytail dripped onto my back. When it trickled to a drizzle, John and I made a dash for home. We still had quite a stretch of ground to cover, and the heavens opened up once again as we pressed onwards.
We arrived at our hut drenched from head to toe, chilled, with mud-caked feet. And it was oh so wonderful to be home. Home, where the lights dance like flickering candles to welcome us. Home, where the fan awaits to dry out our wetness. Home, where our bed sits invitingly, cozy with sheets and pillows and blankets. I was glad to be back, safe and dry from the storm outside.
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