A Little Fall of Rain, flash fiction

randomchild

Hey guys, it's been a long time since I have done some creative writing, but am starting to get the itch again! Critiques welcome!

A Little Fall of Rain
By Jonathan Shortall

The bus pulled up to its designated stop as water, from the ever growing puddle beside the pavement, playfully splashed onto its wheels. The doors pulled themselves open, as a quantity of its cargo discharged itself out into the torrential rain, a storm which had been brewing for some time, but seemed to come from nowhere. A few grumbled about the weather, while some of the more protected entities simply unloaded themselves without a word. A trace managed to give thanks to their courier. The last to leave, a female, seemed far too lost in the ocean of her mind to even think of doing so. As the heavy rain mixed with its brethren on her face, she began the daunting walk home. The carrier continued on its journey upstream. She seemed unfazed by the heavy rain, even as it cascaded down her tired, lithe body. If you were to ask her, the rain had started to fall before there were any clouds in the sky.

As the water ran into her make up, forcing it to trickle and meander down her face, her mind had become equally fogged in a hazy stupor, her mind and spirit wracked by the heavy cross she carried. She absent-mindedly turned around the corner and mechanically halted at the delta of traffic at the top of the road. As the school of vehicles drifted past, the events of the day came flooding back into her mind. Like a river, each time it flowed, it brought more of the dregs of the day along with it. As the seemingly incessant bodies swam up the hill, one particularly large object charged through a nearby tarn, forcing the water’s body onto the unknowing girl. Even this whale-sized splash failed to stir the girl back to reality. She merely blinked at this added saturation and as the light finally turned colour, scuttled across the suddenly silent road.

Once more she swam in the polluted waters of her concousicness, drowning in the bitter remnants of the preceding hours. As she glided around the corner that led into the tributary cul-de-sac where her home resided, she failed to meander around the large obstacle blocking her way: a large male, walking with a young rapscallion beside him. The ensuing collision knocked her to the ground, dumping her in a small lake by the side of the road. The man took a moment to register what had happened and briefly paused to consider assisting its fallen fellow. However, its onrushing offspring forced its hand and the man plunged forward through the wet uninterrupted, chasing after its opportunistic progeny. Caught between the shallow lagoon below her and the intense cataract from above, she felt as if the world had her entire being gripped in a soaked vice. If their was anyone there to watch her, as she endeavoured to rouse her spirits towards one more pitiable attempt at finishing her journey, drenched by this world’s nature, bled by its apathy and kneaded by its artifice, there would be few who would argue with this notion.

Finally, after much rebellion against such a motion, she dragged herself out of the pool, every inch of her pale skin drenched to the centre of her existence, adding to the already colossal burden she already bore. As she trudged down the road, her home finally came into sight, though it did little to raise her morale. Exhaustion set in. She leaned on the imposing barriers of her neighbour’s domains for support, their sturdiness lending support to her forced march. The trees overhead sheltered her from the rain bearing down from above, but doing little to calm the raging tempest in her mind. As she limped up to the pillar that guarded her residence, she rested on its broad, strong shoulder, before mustering all of her fortitude and penetrated into her homestead. She finally reached the door. As her drenched makeup continued to water down her face in thick streams, blurring her vision, she cursed while she blindly fumbled through her thoroughly sodden handbag.

Suddenly, the door beamed open, the warm hues of the living revealing themselves; gently coaxing the girl to raise her heavy head and be embraced by her homely hearth. As the girl slowly looked up from her ruined possessions, her countenance softened sharply. A beautiful smile slowly began to foster on her face. She stepped through the portal of her abode, welcomed into the warm womb of her home. Behind her, the rain continued to pour down as heavily as before, but a glimmer of sunshine was now shining through the dampness as well. As the door closed behind her, the song playing from her MP3-player was hushed by this steadfast guardian:

The rain can’t hurt me now…


© Jonathan Shortall 08-06-08