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August 6, 2008
I have a wet dream. Melting snow breaks the roof and floods my bed with icy water. I wake to see heavy rain banging on the window; I hope it stops before I have to go to the office. On TV, it's women's synchronised diving, they barely make a splash. I go out into the drizzle, and read an article on the bus on recent UK floods. Someone passes me in the rain, singing: 'Bad things are coming this way...'. My hands seem more webbed than usual. I blink my eyelid membrane and hop into a puddle. Darwin was right.