“Rain” by Erin W.

Posted by on Feb 17, 2015 in Feature, Other Writings | 0 comments

The following is a piece of microfiction written by AYWI student blogger Erin. 

It was raining as she strode down the street, a fine, misting rain that beaded on her eyelashes.  He was late:  they were supposed to meet at the boardwalk at nine, but by her watch it was three past nine and he was nowhere to be seen.  Her white, gauzy sundress clung to her body.  There was no umbrella; she hadn’t planned on the rain.

In her mind, his homecoming was bright and sparkling, silhouetted by a watercolor orange sunset.  The water was there, to be sure, but as she looked to her left the white-capped surf crashed into a graphite beach, and a slate-colored sky arced overhead, punctuated by wheeling seagulls.  She’d never seen her little town so muted.

The rain strengthened.  She pushed her wet hair out of her face.  She splashed through puddles, and, looking down, saw her worn rubber rain boots and almost laughed.  They were supposed to be symbolic.  A sundress and rain boots.  Something to smile over, once they were together again.  Her boots were beginning to be flecked with mud.  She glanced around.  He wasn’t coming.  She didn’t think she wanted to keep waiting anymore.

She turned to go, to flee the damp for a novel and hot chocolate by the fireplace, and suddenly he was there, not a hundred yards away. She gasped, her hand to her mouth.  He grinned.  She was still for a moment, and then she began to run towards him, dress soaked, boots muddy, racing in the rain.

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