Cometh the Rain

Wherever Kira went, it rained. Not an unusual occurrence one might have claimed. In the context of her deluges, however, it was. No matter where Kira stood, either inside or out, the heaven’s opened and poured. They didn’t pour on her neighbours, nor her little chihuahua, just her.

This strange situation lasted for five years, then as suddenly as it had started, stopped. Like God had turned a tap off, the rain cloud’s that were a permanent feature of Kira’s life just disappeared. No more rain. No more wet beds, sofas, car interiors, gardens or streets.

“What a relief,” said Mrs Chambers from next door.

“Thank goodness for that,” said Alan, Kira’s boss.

“About time,” said their local weatherman relieved his predictions might stick.

Kira smiled at them all, replied that she’d miss it, then at long, long last put down her umbrella.

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14 thoughts on “Cometh the Rain

  1. So what’s the best way to put down an umbrella? “You bad umbrella! You can be so inflexible! And just when I need you the most, you turn yourself inside out. What kind of umbrella are you anyway?”
    Those are not very nice things to say to an umbrella, especially one that has faithfully shielded you from the rain.
    (Richard, you always inspire me.)

  2. Nice, Richard. Sometimes it feels like that over here. Rain and more rain. Then the spigot turns off and for 3 months we have to water. Kira should hang on to the umbrella. The rain always returns.

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