Ray Bradbury. In the silver haze (№ 31917)

- If only the rain had stopped pounding me in the head, ' said Picard. - Even for a few minutes. Just so I remember what the rest is.
He clenched his head with both hands.
- Remember back in high school for me was a monster and pinched them, pinched them, pinched me every five minutes. All through the day. This went on for weeks, months. My hands were bruised, the skin swollen. I thought I would go crazy with this plucking. And he got me. The upshot was that I really freaked out from the pain, grabbed a metal triangle for drawing and almost killed this bastard. Almost cut his head off, almost took out an eye, I barely tore from him. And all the time screaming: "What he hits on me?" Lord! - Trembling hands stronger gripping his head, eyes closed. - What can I do now? Who to hit, who to tell, to stop, to leave me alone? Rain, bloody rain, does not break, it stings and it stings, only heard, only seen, that the rain, rain, rain!