As if.
The way this works, the way it did work, anyway, I was walking with one eye on the sky, working on a plot device, actually, sort of thinking about the characters while not thinking about them – me sweating like a roast pig. Not so much hot as humid, that Gulf Coast moisture condensing on my skin. It started to rain, as I was along the river’s path, and I was trying to skirt that rain.
Got so moist, I wasn’t sure if I was wet from rain, or just plain sweat.
