Liked the Rain
an excerpt

Keane doesn't know how she feels about Emrys. She used to hate him, and then she came to almost tolerate him... and then there came the day when she didn't know what she felt any more. She doesn't know what would have happened that morning if the opposition had decided to hold off their attack for even five minutes more. She doesn't really seem to know anything much now. She feels as hollow as their victory. As she lies here in the gloom of fast-approaching dusk, all she knows for sure is that it's raining and Emrys is out there, in the ground that is rapidly turning into a bog, and the water is seeping down, soaking everything, making him wet, drowning him. And Emrys doesn't like to be wet. He doesn't care for the rain.

Keane liked the sound of rain on the roof. She liked it once, but she doesn't now.

The rain keeps falling, nonetheless.