i. Chance of rain, 100%
Here, where it rains, it has always rained; here
where it floods, it has always been flooding,
water seeps into earth and rock, fueling a dark
passage into wells that will never end. A message
from the future to the past: the sun will never be
seen again, the moon will still be silent, muted in
mad cycles of cloud; like stepping into swollen rivers
rising fast above us, fluid, life will never be the same.
ii. Chance of rain, 50%
Here where opposites meet in equal circumstance,
desires lurk on our foggy ceilings, submerged, while fate
shines bright on these clean-swept crystalline floors;
through thresholds and windows, gates and entries,
lie visions of an afterlife wrapped in afterimage; it is
all suspense in a single variation: a candle casts its
shapes across the walls with a flicker of life, a flicker
of death. Subtle, that. Life may never be the same.
iii. Chance of rain, 0%
Here, where it does not rain, it has never rained and
never will; here, where the dryness descends upon you
like hot anvils, the chalk of dust and bone coats your
lungs; eternal heat and light strike with the hammer of
thunder, telling us we have nothing without hope; and
the inner workings of rain, like your tiny, elaborate
hands, were never seen again. Dry vowels from your
lungs expire, rumble on, and life was never the same.
Ryu Ando lives and works in Los Angeles. His writing has appeared in a number of speculative fiction and poetry journals including Strange Horizons, Liquid Imagination, Unbroken, and many more. He is twice-nominated for the Rhysling and once for the Elgin awards for speculative poetry. He can be found online here: ryuando.wordpress.com/ and on Twitter @ryu_ando_98.
Photo by: Ana Prundaru