It looked like rain. The clouds were churning quickly in the sky like the gods’ fat, angry cooks stirring up the earth for a human-soup, it looked like. Gary wondered if he ought to be building an ark. The sky rumbled and the rain finally came down in globular drops, hissing and fizzing as each drop encountered a surface. Gary ducked under the metal awning of the Five and Dime, wondering if or when the acid rain would be finished, and the sun would protect them once more. He hated the acid rain, and the casualties it brought.