Work Text:
They say if it rains the day someone dies, the soul has entered Heaven; the angels are weeping with joy.
I stare not out the window but at it, watching the raindrops slide down the pane; they certainly look like tears.
I feel a warm presence behind me. I shift my gaze and see my mother's reflection in the glass.
"Your father's in a better place."
Instead of here, in Hell, with us.
I shrug off her touch. "I'm going for a walk."
"Sam, it's raining."
They say if you walk in the rain, no one can tell you're crying.