He ran out into the summer rain, full of joy and laughter. A puddle was not something to avoid, but sought after for its capacity to make a large splash. Launching himself to land in the puddle's center was done without regard to how well his clothes would absorb the water.
More than the grass or the trees, I needed that rain, at that time. And HE knew that.
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- Plato Paragon
- I stepped into a river. I returned to step into the river again. But it was not the same river, and I was not the same man.
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