Rain, Rain Go Away

The rain had been coming down for the last twelve days. Non-stop. It was worse than the Met Office could have predicted. Vast swathes of the UK were immersed in floodwater, homes ruined, possessions lost, lives threatened.

People were advised to move away from affected areas, to stay with relatives. The church appealed for the nation to pray for salvation. To pray for their lives. Doomsday theorists predicted the end of days. Armageddon was here.

And up above, God sat wringing out his laundry, silently cursing his washing machine that had broken, mid-wash, leaving his clothes sopping wet.