I've never seen rain like this before. There is no wind - the rain is falling vertically, catching the street lights as it goes. It is thick, almost soup like to use a horrible simile.

I'm sat on an open window on the third floor, doing my usual nightly thing of sitting on an open window on the third floor, wondering why I don't have the guts. I see a cyclist, one of the few people out at this time of night, skid on a wet manhole cover. He falls off, and in slow motion hits a parked lorry.

Another cyclist stops to offer assistance, the blinking red light on the rear of his bike rhythmically lighting up the rain. Another draws along side. I imagine the bikes as ambulance, their pulsing lights brightening the whole street, the two who stopped as paramedics, fussing around a traffic accident in the rain.

The fallen man seems to be alright, so I decide not to go outside and offer my help. The rain falls heavily on the three of them, like fake movie rain. This would be the scene where the protaganist cops it, and the paramedics can do nothing but stand there, water drumming down upon their jackets and dripping from their hoods.

There is no sound except for water hitting the floor, and exerpts of their conversation wafting up, seemingly muffled by the downpour. I like this weather.