Rayne.

Rayne. Why did my parents have to give me that name? And, in the eternal game of post hoc ergo propter hoc, which is post and which propter? 

Why am I asking that? Look outside. What’s it doing? 

Exactly. It’s raining. It’s always raining. I can’t ever remember it not raining.

I know it wasn’t raining here yesterday or today, before I arrived. And before you ask: yes, I did bring the weather with me. Everywhere I go, I always bring the weather with me. That’s why I’m asking the question. Did they call me Rayne because the rain always follows me, or does the rain always follow me because I’m called Rayne?

It may very well be a philosophical question to you; you don’t have to live with it. Tell me: where do you like to go on holiday?

Okay, maybe you do prefer a different place each time, but what is the common element, the thread that ties them together? Altitude? Language? Architectu—

Of course, weather. Any particular kind of weather?

As I thought. Dry and sunny. Do you know where I go for my holidays?

Then I’ll tell you. I don’t. I never go anywhere on holiday.

Why not? Because I know it will rain. It always rains.

Isn’t it obvious? It rains because I’m there. Tell you what. Would you like me to come on holiday with you on year?

Why not?

So you do believe me, then? 

What?

Okay, let’s hear your idea.

Mm hmm.

Uh huh.

You know what? You might just have something there.

I’ve heard that, too. Have you noticed that they pray earnestly for rain, but how many of them believe in the power of their prayers to the extent that they take a brolly with them?

Precisely. So now—

Exactly. And I’ll bet they’d pay me to visit them for a few days, wouldn’t they?

This was written in response to Kreative Kue 294 published on this site.