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.

50 Word Stories: November 5th (Guy Fawkes Night)

They scatter, fauns and satyrs, nymphs and dryads, for England’s night is full of fire. Scared away by explosions of colour, myths and legends exit before holidays of our own making. For one night we celebrate our own folly and devious machinations at the expense of true fable. How odd.