Someone once wanted to race raindrops. The rules were simple. On a rainy day, we would each pick a single drop sliding down the car window. You pointed at yours, I pointed at mine, and we’d watch. The weight of the rain and the movement of the car—together they decided which drop would fall first. Sometimes the drops clung stubbornly to the glass, and no winner could be declared. Sometimes her raindrop slipped away before mine. Sometimes mine reached the bottom first. But you

I hate rainy days. I hate the dampness — that heavy, lingering weight in the air. I hate having to carry an umbrella wherever I go. The...