Waking up into a world of unforecasted rain. Honestly pouring down, not restricted by our feeble expectations, simply being rain. We need a bit more of this sort of thing (except in areas prone to flooding).
Lost ball: Was it washed up here from afar to languish by Port Edgar or did simply get punted over the barrier to meet it's oblivion on the rocks below? Life is too full of unanswered and unnecessary questions to ponder them all. I feel a small existential crisis coming on at the thought of all the possibilities, I'm sure it will quickly pass. However the very fact that it passes quickly might lead to another. We're all caught up in a universal chain of unknowing and doubt as we spiral either upwards or downwards. Can't tell them apart. Having said that, all the lost footballs remain forever lost as far as I can see.
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