We sat quietly on the futon for a few minutes, then Cory went to my East window and opened it a crack. He was looking downwards.
When he closed the window and returned he spoke of the river coming down.
I wanted to see it, so went, and he joined me. There we stood, rain hurtling down, and what had been a dry river bed was now a muddy raging torrent racing into the sea.
I only took a short peek because the rain was so heavy.
We went back to the futon, sat.
Unless the rain stopped, unless the river slowed to a trickle, Cory would be spending the night here.