a distant home

It is a gray morning, pearls of rain rolling down the windows. Enkas is standing in the kitchen to watch the weather, almost like every morning now. A storm is coming. Of course, he is used to weather like this. This is normal. Yet, he must be careful and watch. The dome-like window above him may be steady and can endure harsh weather conditions, as it has to, but if it breaks, or even shows a hint of cracking a hint of cracking, he'll have to evacuate. A storm is coming. The clouds break open partially and tease Enkas with a small peak of what he had dreamt of seeing on the daily. The rain is hitting the windows harder now, playing its own drum solo, but Enkas is only gazing at the sight above him. The rings of Jupiter are strung across the sky, proudly, like a silver lining for him, before the clouds hide them again. A storm has arrived.