|Rain (Liberia, Guanacaste, Costa Rica). CC2.0 photo by NannyDaddy.|
Stairway to Heaven
The storm was a wild one.
Just as I hoped.
Thunderheads barged across the sky, jostling and bouncing off each other, like gang members steaming a train. Their shouts were the thunder, born of those gale driven collisions, and knives flashed as sudden lightning.
The rain, my constant companion, lashed me with its spiteful force, drenching my clothes and stealing my body heat.
My shoes, leather slick and greasy from their soaking, squelched and slipped with every step on the flooded flags.
I carried the umbrella high, heedless of the miniature torrents streaming from its spikes with every change of angle as I walked.
The umbrella wasn’t for the rain, it was for the lightning.
They say it never strikes twice in the same place. I hoped the old wives tale was not true here.
Reaching the centre of the deserted square, I turned a slow, deliberate circle, peering through sodden, blinking lashes for any trace of others.
No. For the first time, I smiled to be alone.
I was sure, with the unshakeable certainty of a dream, that if I could only be touched once more by the flaming finger of the Gods, I would be transported as she had been.
I would be with my love again.
This story was written for Rebekah Postupak's Flash! Friday challenge Vol 3 - 9. Read all the other stories written to this prompt here