* * * * *
Rain now, all about them, engulfing them, the dense Caribbean torrent
that erases the edge between earth, sky, and sea. Winston felt as
though they were swimming in it, the gusts wet against his face,
soaking through his leather jerkin, awash in his boots. The earth
seemed caught in a vast ephemeral river which oscillated like a
pendulum between ocean and sky. In the Caribbees this water from the
skies was different from anywhere else he had ever known. The heavens,
like a brooding deity, first scorched the islands with a white-hot sun,
then purged the heat with warm, remorseless tears.