Hemingway: The rain fell. Nick sighted the deer.
Faulkner: Pa don't understand why I watch the rain; "It's just another burden boy, look at something else." But he don't see everything. He don't see the way water comes together, like a family. He don't see how it all trails to one thing. He don't see everything.
Kosinski: I had to be very careful watching my comet in this weather; a peat flame would burn slowly, but I had to keep swinging the can or else the water would drown the flame. The rain made the ground slippery and hard to walk on, and the hill made it even worse. I had to be careful to not slip and have my comet burn out.
Thompson: The rain made the ground hard to walk on, and the ether didn't help any; even a drunk isn't as irresponsible as a man kneck deep in an ether binge. I slipped and slid down this trail, and looked at my lawyer. "YOu fat smoin' FfffffffCK!"
Hamann: Rivulets made their unsteady way down the hill. They pooled into a creek. It's interesting how things all have a habit of coming together, of organizing themselves into bigger and more complex creations. Complexity theory at work.