2020-06-07

Pluviophilic

(a bit of silliness -)

“C’mon Bodie, rise and shine, time for a run.”
“I don’t see any shining going on. What’s the weather?”
“Cloudy with a chance of me?”
“Pass. It’s raining. Not going out in that.”
“You won’t melt.”
“Don’t like rain. It’s wet.”
“Rain makes the world new again. Good for roses and lavender, too.”
“When did you become a pluviophile?”
“eh?”
“A lover of rain, someone who finds joy and peace of mind in rainy days.”
“Then I guess that makes you pluviophobic, seeing as a mind is required.”
“Berk. I prefer sunshine. C’mere, Ray.”
“Ah... maybe we’ll skip the run.”

Just

"Poor old sod's not happy." Doyle's tone blended sympathy and glee as he watched Cowley scurrying through the driving rain across the car park, huddled into his raincoat. "Right misery all week."

"Shows he's one of the just," Bodie responded.

"Eh?"

"You know, Ogden Nash:
The rain it raineth on the just
And also on the unjust fella;
But chiefly on the just, because
The unjust hath the just’s umbrella."

"Charles Bowen," Murphy corrected.

"You could be right." Bodie retrieved the purloined umbrella hidden behind the sofa. "Come on, Ray. We the unjust need to get our happy weekend started!"