Rainy days in Melbourne

Rain on steeples. Rain droplets on the tram window as we pass the grand old Windsor. Did they use Sydney sandstone on her?

And a fire engine wahs and splashes up the road.

I touch gritty walls in Cafe Nova on Brunswick St. Is shabby black chic a movement?

I met an author. And watched a performer forget her lines while Karen Carpenter played in the background.

My hair curls prettily in the rain. 

Rain can make me feel f*****g creative. And so can anger.

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