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| 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.
209 words
@nickjohns999
This story was written for Rebekah Postupak's Flash! Friday challenge Vol 3 - 9. Read all the other stories written to this prompt here
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