Three days later, in Los Angeles, California...
It was raining and Arnold loved the rain. Everything about the rain. The whispering hum as sheets of precipitation plummeted to the water-forsaken ground, the often unanticipated flashes of lightning or the rolls of ominous thunder. He loved it all.
The rain was falling steadily without let up since before he woke up. Outside the summer flowers and leaves dropped under the weight of the water droplets. He had spent so much time inside the void lately that he'd almost forgotten this feeling, the cool freshness in the breeze. But it wasn't the breeze coming from outside. But by the fan in the apartment.
Arnold stirred behind his closed eyelids, his mind ceasing dream-mode to bring him back to reality. At first, he was slightly confused. He heard the fan rotating at full speed, yet he knew he didn't turn it on before bed. Instead of confusion, a slow smile crept over his face as he turned around.
