Sunday, June 03, 2007

The Rain

I started this short story last night, but decided it wasn't going anywhere. So, here are two paragraphs of blah. Enjoy.

The Rain

It smelled of rain. The morning sun crept in through the gap in our thick velvet curtains. When I opened them wider, I smelled the coming rain. I smelled it the way I always have, ever since I was a child. I smelled it the way Mama smelled the beer on my Dad’s breath, even before he started one of his drinking binges. I could smell snow, too, which makes sense, if you think about it. Snow smells like rain, only colder. I told Daniel rain was coming, but he insisted on packing the picnic basket and loading the car.

“Have I ever been wrong before,” I asked him, as we drove up the mountain. “Have I?”
Daniel stared straight ahead. “I don’t want to argue about this.”
“OK. But don’t blame me when we’re halfway through the picnic and we have to run to the car.”
“Why did you come then,” he asked with frustration.
“Why did you insist on going,” I replied.
“This isn’t getting us anywhere.”
“I know. Fine. I came because I wanted to spend …” I paused, remembering what he had told me long ago. “I came because I wanted to share time with you,” I corrected myself. “But we could’ve shared time back at the house. Out of the rain. Where it would be warm and dry.”
“It’s NOT raining. There isn’t a single cloud in the sky.”
“I know, but I smell it. It’s coming.”
We rode the rest of the way in silence.

1 comment:

  1. I like it. It says a lot in only two paragraphs. But even if you decide to leave it at that, it works well as a very-short story, too.

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