As if the sky felt what he did, mimicking the same torment stirring hot and wild and frantic in his chest. He wished to disappear beneath it, to vanish entirely in the rain, so that he might not have to leave again and face reality outside the safety of the iron fence— Perhaps he begged a little too loudly, because the rain heard him. It heard him, and it obeyed—burying the roof of the chapel beneath pelting water, forcing it to groan beneath its own weight, then buckling down on top of him.
