Here she goes again. We halt flying, immediately, and perch on a solitary rock midway across the turbulent lake. She is like this every time it rains. We must stop, and wait.
I don't mind shapeshifting into human form, but right now I'm chilled and I'm annoyed with her insistence that we stop and shift into humans every time a droplet falls. She tells me that the rain reminds her of him, and that human epidermis is more conducive to water absorption. Well, she doesn't express it like that--in fact, I believe her words were,
"His kisses slide too quickly down my feathers, and they are gone in an instant. When I am human, they seep into my pores and never leave..."
If I could bring him back and tell him what he has left me with I would, then I would kill him all over again. How is it, despite merciless death, he still pours on her from above? Hence I will have to settle for taking revenge in the afterlife--across this darkened lake--when we get there.
This vignette was a Magpie Tale...