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Rain washes the world outside my window today, with a softly endless chatter as if the gods were whispering chants for the well-being of the world. Leaves are greener already, slickly wet and rising in all their diversity towards the slate of Seattle sky. Even as I sit here, dry inside my room, the rain seems to sooth me as well, whispering not of godly chants, but of stories and characters in worlds that chant in my imagination.