Rain, rain go away, come again another day. The lyrics to the old nursery rhyme spiralled though my mind in endless revolutions. No one else seemed to care that the land couldn’t take it. The waters rose inch by inch, the others sploshing around in bare feet, regardless.
Those days of endless water were the worst. It wasn’t the water per se, nor the expressions that morphed from glad to gloom to grey, but our mysterious benefactor. He sat legs crossed on a hilltop overlooking the town, his eyes glued to the sky as though the clouds were no obstruction. Not once did he move. Not once did he shift an iota.
For reasons beyond explanation, I found myself climbing that hill to nowhere. I stalked our savior like a cat a mouse. When at last I drew close enough, bereft of places to hide, he turned my way and smiled. When I looked up, I saw why.
To Be Continued…