Christine sits solemnly in her pleated skirt on a lonely park bench. The breeze gently pushing by tickles her legs sending a shiver up her spine. Royal blue raceways jut from her waist, and as the sky begins to sweat she sees little droplets pushing and pulling until they reach the end of the track dissipating on her knees. She hears the melodious drip, drop, pitter, patter as the perfectly formed spheres of hydrogen and oxygen spatter on her forehead. They form miniscule rivers down her face over her pronounced nose and onto her chapped lips. She tastes nature’s sweet concoction and smiles. Her ears grow keen to the sound of the earth greedily swallowing up this rare substance. She hears a deep MMMMM, then a loud crack from above which she assumes means "you're welcome". A flash of light cuts through and whips down, reminding all that see who is in charge. A display of grace and power all in an instant. The girl is humbled by her role in this whole affair. The thing about such a show is that there has to be someone to watch, to experience all this splendor and majesty. None of the others do. They scatter with angry faces, inconvenienced by what they view as a break in their beautiful day. They scurry for cover; under trees, into buildings and cars and look back at sweet Christine like she's the crazy one who just doesn't seem to get it.