He watched the clouds roll in, trying his best to appreciate their natural beauty. They seemed to have been layered across the sky by the hand of Mother Nature like so much cumulonimbal filo dough. Unfortunately, he doubted there was any delectably sweet filling within that metaphorical dough…only rain.
He liked rain, all things considered, except when it held the imminent promise of falling with unfettered abandon on the first party he’d be hosting as a junior associate of Harcourt, Dukes, Frances and Keene. With a reluctant sigh, he admitted an outdoor venue might not have been so very wise.
This story was written for the weekly Friday Fictioneers photo prompt.