It Comes With The Rain

Staring from office window I watched the cursed rain fall on this cursed city. It painted every square inch of concrete and steel a darker shade, like a revealing shot of the inner beast hidden from the naked eye. The mindless cattle scurried for shelter never once paying any mind to the darkness that surrounds them. Such thoughtless, useless creatures they are. To see this planet in all it majesty beleaguered with such a blight is a heartbreaking affair. It suggests to me a fundamental flaw in the grand design of celestial mechanics. It's a shame this office is so exposed. I could sit here all day and pick off the cattle with a high powered rifle. One by one their heads would explode in a crimson mist as the bullets penetrated their skulls. The streets would flow with blood and brain matter instead of this fucking rain. It would come in great gushing waves, drowning the rats and the sewer ecosystem. It would take away much of the thrill in hunting the cattle and the kill would be inferior, but there are times when quantity greatly outweighs quality.