It Pours

A Flash Fiction Story

Cold water touched my face, streaming down my cheeks, saturating my clothes. The longer I stood there, the harder the rain felt, the more frequent it hit. Almost as if trying to wake me up from this nightmare I’m in.

Hair no longer able to hold water allowed it to pour down my face, along the sides, and back of my neck. It was fresh, a familiar smell, natural.

Flashes of light illuminated my home, revealing a scene inside. Rumbling rolled above, matching the anger within me at the way he touched her.

My own tears mixed in with the rain that I couldn’t tell them apart. As if the world cried with me. As if it felt the pain in my heart.

Flashes of light hit the house once more, revealing myself for him to see. He stood there, so still, as if he’d seen a ghost.

Darting for the door, he called out to me, but I turn away, ignoring his pleas for me to come back.

He was sorry, and I was too.

But I followed the path that led me deeper into the storm, hoping it will one day lead me back to sunshine.

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