garrattj

Five-Minute fiction - 00:49-00:54

The seasons in the City were varied, to say the least. Of course, there were four(ish), but dont tell the citizens that. On any one day down in the Market-Square you could hear numbers ranging from two all the way up to twenty. Though the ones who said there were twenty seasons were clearly on something they shouldnt be, and usually werent there the next time someone asked. But the variety of numbers more than proves the point. The seasons were varied.

Except it always rained.

No matter the season, it always seemed to rain. Sometimes that rain was cool and refreshing, as in the High months, when the sun was high in the sky, and the ground was baked to a crisp. Or sometimes it was ice-cold deadly, as in the Low months, when the sun rarely seemed to want to peek its face out from the horizon to shower the frigid, and usually frozen city in its warm light.

But it always rained. It was the staple element, rain. There was even an entire season dedicated to it. The Wet months were the months when