It's 1970-something

You've been friends with harlan for awhile. Coincidentally a well known Artist/Writer. Often times when things get too busy upstairs in your head or just in general, you go over to "pester" or in a more loving way "hang out" with harlan at his house just talking and like any day you and him are standing on his porch, but his time watching the rain talking about something but nothing really.

The rain comes down onto the roof and porch softly with little pitter-patters. It soothing. You watch the smoke from your cigarette blend with the rain and its distortion of the dark sky.