It was raining the day the spaceship landed.
A steady drizzle had been falling all morning and the city streets were awash. The cardboard box Ramiro sheltered in was already starting to sag. Prompted by another splash of cold on the back of his neck, he glanced irritably up at his soggy ceiling. It was beginning to bulge inward, large beads of moisture slowly seeping through. His newspaper mattress didn’t exactly provide much insulation either, it was nearly soaked, barely diverting the little stream that originated somewhere behind him and flowed out steadily beneath his feet...
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