Prompt: Rainy day.
Yeah, this storyline is really not exciting at all. It's mostly just old friends talking. But damn it, my life is talking. It's what I know.

September 1989

Veata stared out at the sheets of rain coming down around Suzy's apartment. "Thanks for taking me in," she said absently, pulling her hair out of its ponytail.

"No prob," said Suzy, setting down two steaming cups of coffee on the plasticoated tablecloth.

"I won't be able to pay rent for a while."

Suzy pursed her lips, looking disapproving, and sipped her coffee. "Doesn't matter." Suzy didn't like people questioning her charity.

"And you're sure Cynthia won't mind?"

Suzy rolled her eyes, but didn't meet Veata's. "Doesn't matter. We've been..." She stirred her coffee. "I think we might break up again."

"For what, the forty seventh time?" Veata chuckled shortly, and Suzy surrendered a small smile. "Is she even still living here?"

"Uhh, from time to time. You know her."

Veata nodded slowly, and took a long drink of her coffee. It was heavily sweetened and creamed, like she always drank it. "I met a man."

"Ah," said Suzy. "You will have to introduce me to him."

"It's not serious." Veata tipped another spoonful of sugar (lets the medicine go down) into her mug, mostly to have something to do. It reminded her of when she had first arrived in America, and Suzy had introduced her to theater. They had both played small roles in a community theater production of Mary Poppins, among other shows.

"Here's a totally different subject, but remember our old theater days?" The rain was coming down even harder now, and Veata imagined that she could hear it on the roof, though they were not on the highest floor of the apartment building.

"Those were the times," said Suzy, "back when we didn't have to pay taxes." Rain lashed the window hard, and Veata nearly jumped back.

"Geez. I'm glad we're all cozy and warm in here. The shelter got pretty leaky when rain came."

"Effects of Hurricane Hugo. I heard that the South Carolinians got hit pretty hard. But yeah-- our theater days." Suzy cleared her throat. "It's weird-- after we were in all those plays together, I don't think you ever even met my family."

Veata shrugged. "You have tons of friends. It must be obnoxious having to introduce them over and over. I mean. You know. It would be easy to forget..."

"Yeah," said Suzy. "So..." she tapped her white-painted fingernails on the table. "Your accent is nearly gone."

"I've been working on it," said Veata. "I already stick out enough, what with my eye-patch, and my... not being white."

"Hey, we're rejects of America together, even though my difference isn't perhaps as readily apparent," said Suzy. "My extended family is still pretty awkward about it. And Jesus; if my employers knew..." Suzy, after several years of college, was now an elementary schoolteacher.

"Wow, it must--" suck, having an extended family. and a steady job. Veata stopped herself. She'd been called out before by Suzy on her 'passive aggressively,' and she had no inclination to face her friend's wrath again. When Suzy got angry she was calm and quiet and steely, and that disturbed Veata more than any real show of anger could. "Yeah," was all she said. "I mean, it's the little things that get you down, you know. And they just build up."

"Yeah," said Suzy. "And I'm sorry; I bet you get a lot more prejudice on a daily basis than I do."

"Hm," said Veata in disagreement. "I live in a shelter with a bunch of other racial minorities, so I don't know. It's not so bad, just..."

"Disheartening," said Suzy, "that America wants to deny your existence in the media."

"Ha," said Veata without humor. "I don't get to watch tv all that much, but I'll be damned if I ever see a dark-skinned Asian on there, or even any kind of Asian, much less one that speaks proper English."

"I'll be damned," countered Suzy, "if I ever see any sort of family arrangement other than the 'nuclear' kind that isn't represented as being broken and dysfunctional."

"I can't wait to be damned, if hell is full of people like us," said Veata. "Let the white Christian republican straight middle and upper classes have their heaven. We'll be having a lot more fun getting drunk and... waiting for the rain to blow over."

"Only we're getting caffeinated instead," said Suzy, and after a comfortable pause, "I love storms. I've always thought that if I'm going to die, I want it to be by some huge natural disaster." She drank the last of her coffee and set it down on the table with a reassuring 'clunk.'

"I don't think about death," said Veata. "And to be honest, I don't think I really fear it. I only fear pain." And embarrassment, in its infinite manifestations, but that much, Veata was sure, was obvious.