Rain Hurts.

Was a month past the equinox, yet rain still soaked the seaside soil. Gales warped the trees, rivers slalomed the mountain slopes, flourishes of hail swept the black-sand beaches.
“Out here,” a logger once told me, “it rains so much, it hurts.”
But the rain created this.


Introducing the BippHull and V-Minor by Ryan Lovelace.