This is from the forthcoming The Sleight of Edison Noble:

He would often sit in his office like this, on days like this, looking out the window. The out-of-doors was covered in rain, the pounding, sweating rain. There was no reason to go out there, but he would still sit with the window open and take in both the cool breeze and the sound of water hitting the walls of the building, hitting the sidewalks, covering everything and everybody. It was, in a way (at least to him) something so beautiful and so fragile. He wouldn’t reminisce about hot, nasty summers in the countryside. But he knew he’d miss the blessing of a cleansing, gray urban rain shower. Everyone had his or her own ideas of beauty and power in this world, and this one, this weather, was his. The idea that nature could defend herself from the nuisance of humanity, but doing so gently and softly, a sweet maternal reminder of the caprice of the earth and her ability to exert control. If true love involved surrender, willing surrender, then he knew he was in love with rainy days like this one.