cause and effect

I used to think that rain was a temperamental, unordered thing, like the way anger is when it rises in people before you can trace the path to their discontent. I would wonder what it was about putting my elbows on the table or the way I spoke that made my mom lock herself in her room on some days, and it wasn't until the day when my fifth grade class sat on the carpet and learned what the clouds were really made of.

As an experiment, I think that I'll study a wet sponge on a dry day to see how it empties itself. Maybe then might understand where my thoughts go, and if they come back.