Bad Weather Report

The kind of day out there that makes you want to drink cups of tea and read books all day on the sofa in between afternoon snoozes. A blustery rain - wind-strewn - sounding cold and unfriendly. A heavy sky, burdened with grey and the threat of further rain and a coma-like sleep.
I could hear it this morning as I lay in bed (I am on my late shifts this week), that unmistakeable sound of springtime rain at the windows. It seemed to thread into my room, and laced my dreams last night with oddness; the ghost of something in our hallway, that turned out to resemble our landlady, only younger.
The cat-flap rattles, and the door of my room is uneasy against the frame. Looking down the stairs, I see the corner of a van through the frosted glass. The kindly cut shards make it look like a person staring in, unmoving and frozen. A sinister watcher (though what watchers could ever be described as not sinister?).
The sound of the drills and the saws from the workshops do not disturb him.