Setting

Another Creative Writing prompt that I like.
Raindrops like rivers streak the grimy windowpane, cleaning little paths to the outside world. It is an empty day, no one caring to venture into the rain-soaked world, so there was no one to watch on the street which the window faced. Not that he would’ve wanted to look out at the dark gray skies and muted shop fronts anyway; it was like an old black-and-white-film outside, though it was far from silent. The rain crashed down on the roof, creating a deluge of miniature waterfalls as is rushed down the slanted sides and into the gutter. Shoving against the walls, the wind whooshed with howls and screeches as it gusted by. Every few minutes, lightning would break open the sky, momentarily lighting the dreary day, and a ferocious growl of thunder would leave the building shaking in its aftermath. How the old structure could withstand such abuse was beyond him and he was, for once, consciously thankful for its stodgy shelter.

After yet another torrent of cruel weather, he weaved across the room to the window, searching in vain for the sight of sunshine or clear sky in the distance that would mark the end of the downpour. But no, it was dark masses of clouds as far as he could see in the smudged sky. So he wound his way around the thread-bare red velvet couch and disgustingly elaborate last century side tables and back to the desk where he had previously been perched, pouring over the dry, leather-bound book that apparently held the key to property law. It was, without a doubt, the dullest book he had ever read, and he was a law student at Oxford. Tugging at the hem of his vest, and loosening his silken cravat, he steeled his nerves and sat down once more, determined to tackle this reading.