The rain fell sporadically throughout the day, covering everything with a fine and constant sheen. Squabbling birds gathered in the trickling runoffs to splash around uproariously before skirmishing for places unknown.
The sky was neither gray nor blue. The rain clouds were far too ethereal to hold back the entirety of the sun’s might, yet the pull of the earth promised to force the fiery warrior into an eventual retreat. By late afternoon, the two camps had declared an uneasy truce and settled on a compromising twilight, bathing everything in a strange and exotic glow.
Bits of branches lay strewn about, silent victims of the rain’s armament. Their rotted corpses, crushed and splintered by passing cars, surrendered in bitter disgrace. The survivors fared no better- the water had urged the smaller plants into an involuntary communion with the ground and their tops were bent or bending in spiteful supplication- hardly a proper worship.
The rain slowly intensified, emboldened by the sun’s ebbing strength. It led a westward charge across the landscape, volleying drop after drop onto the target. What its bombardiers lacked in accuracy was mitigated by the sheer volume of ammunition- nothing could avoid such a tireless assault at the height of its fury. Rain drops splattered on the road, drove themselves into the evening darkness between the shrubs, pounded themselves into oblivion down storm drains, and lost themselves completely in the large puddles beginning to form in the shallow spots in the front yard. Their sacrifice was soon forgotten, drowned out by the endless march of war.
The sun, realizing the struggle was lost, quietly slipped away. The streetlight buzzed itself on- a modern day Herodotus chronicling the outcome of the battle. Streaks of rain glistened as they shot past the beam, partially exposing the enemy’s plans. It did not matter- no amount of subterfuge or intelligence could delay this defeat. The only question that remained was whether the rain would show some modicum of mercy. The odds were against it- the rain was not by its nature a civil adversary. It would hurl itself with full force until it was exhausted.
In the distance, a car pushed through the water on the road. The windshield wipers rocked at full speed but were of little use. The car slowed and turned into the driveway, its progress hesitant and cautious. The engine died but the headlights burned stubbornly into the night.
The rain, having found a new target, focused its efforts on the car. Rain thundered down on the windshield and roared on the sheet metal, the drops meeting and dancing momentarily in death. In response, the headlights went dim and the windshield wipers fearfully betrayed themselves, slowly coming to a halt.
In one last gasp, the driver side door opened and a lone figure sprinted toward the relative safety of a house. The rain was not outflanked, and drove nails into the back of the traitor as he ran away, quickly shutting the front door behind him.
Surveying the scene it had wrought, the rain trumpeted its approval and satisfied itself with a jubilant drizzle. The remaining clouds reorganized and headed east, breezing effortlessly over the hard chaos they had created below.
The victory was total. The victory was complete.