The moonless night sky was dark with no traces of stars visible when Que stepped out of the library. The once heavy torrents had turned into a light drizzle at some point half an hour ago. Street vendors are already closing and the road is mostly vacant. Lights from the street lamps were the only light illuminating the sidewalk.
The climate of Softdale had always been gloomy, having rain through most of the months of the year save a few. One moment the blazing sun is threatening to turn you into crispy baked potatoes and before you know it, the next moment dark clouds are looming overhead with promising rainstorms.
