The pavement still smelled like rain as we went to go walk outside that morning. The storm in the night swept down with the force of God's hand, and strangely, the city had never looked better. All the trash and grime had been swept away by the force of the gale, and the hobos were out of sight. Even the fountain was working again, spraying down crystal clear water.
The sky is so bright, Koraki said, It doesn't even look as if it rained.
Indeed it didn't. In fact, I was struck by the allusion that it was the fountain's waters that had cleansed the city overnight.
Everyone was looking at the fountain in awe. Watershed was a very suspicous place, and its people were superstitous. I could see it in their eyes as they tried to find some meaning in the everyday miracle. The Pernie fellow looked as if he believed he himself was responsible.
I looked back at the fountain, so innocent and deceptivly pure in apperance. It made me shiver.
"It smells like death." I whispered.
You are right, Koraki said, looking towards the sky. Three black crows were flying across the horizion.
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