What Does Rain Smell Like From Inside?

What does rain smell like from the inside of a house? This is a question we have studied for three years. The answer, we find, is not rain at all but its absence: the damp stone of the doorstep, the faintly metallic whisper of a window frame, and the thick, golden warmth of a room that has been kept dry by the very act of watching.

We have bottled this feeling, but are not yet satisfied. The prototype, called Window Seat, has been tested by twelve cats at the Atelier, each of whom sat in a different chair and stared at the garden for an hour. Their verdict: “Almost.” The missing note, they say, is the smug certainty that one will not be going out. We are working on it. We have hired a drizzle.