Click, and the weather leans where you touched. It comes back on its own: you can provoke the rain, never own it. An archive falling as rain over a meadow of pixels. The folders of a machine have stopped holding anything. They fall, and the white edge each one leaves is the rain. Where a fire once burned, something grew back. Generative and infinite. One wind bends the grass and slants the rain, because it is the same wind. The rain thins to a drizzle and gathers into downpours. The colour shifts square by square, and darkens when it pours. Nothing repeats: the cycles that drive it never return to the same point together. Single HTML file. No server, no network calls, no dependencies. It will run as long as a browser exists, offline, unchanged.