(Written by my character M, which makes it legally mine...)
--Written to the tune of The Cult's "Rain"...
The cold gel-like sensation of the drops as they fall and disperse on my skin is indescribable, but I must endeavor to improve my vocabulary, as all who spoke first not-English. This chill and wet—a sensation I can feel, and experience, and yes, even play in.
The dusty earth cracks when parched and deprived of healing waters. The foot leaves no mark on the impressionless soil. The packed dirt. The dead earth. No vegetation grows well. Nothing moves in the stifling desert. Every creature flees and cowers under rocks and sparse, bent trees in pittance of shade.
The sky frowns, and cracks with distant rumbles and whispers of moisture.
I am there if it is dark. Lightening fingers out along the underside of the clouds, and the ceiling hangs low, almost to where one can reach up and touch and feel the dense fog they are made of.
The rain is timid at first, but gains courage and soon is as coins fall from heaven, battering the packed earth, seeping through the dusty layers to reach and fill roots that have lain in wait. They wait for the water. The rain.
I stand with my head tipped back and arms outstretched to invite the downfall. To feel the icy droplets pelt my flesh and soak my hair. My clothes grow heavy and stick to me as I am saturated. I am a tree here too, opening to this welcome gift from the skies. The heat has fled.
The air stirs cooler, freer, cleaner.
The ground sags beneath my feet. The dirt gives way and newborn creeks rage through improvised arteries to fill the dead riverbeds. The cracks fill and seal and the water begins to flow toward the sea, to give back what was given; to ensure this will happen: again and again.
A heart of mud, rock, and water. I invite it. I roll in the new mud, letting the frigid muck permeate my senses and coat me with life.
I could read this again and again. Except, it's not even a read. It's an experience. I can feel and taste it. I'm there. I recoil from the heat and seek the moisture. Thank you for adding your beautiful voice to #fridayflash!
Wow! I really like this. Your word choice is spectacular, your sentences well crafted. The idea of writing to the the tune of a song is cool especially if it's The Cult.
courageous rain..i dig that..tight write ..contained and explosive all at once.
Very flowing, beautiful prose. Welcome to #fridayflash!
Beautiful and very poignant for me, coming from a drought-parched land.
Very impressive, I could feel the rain and taste the dust. Thank you for posting this!
Fabulous imagery. Great job. I look forward to reading more from you.
Excellent story. I love the your word choices in this. You really let the reader feel and experience everything with your character. Great job.
Incredible imagery. I could feel the pounding rain.
Lyrical and lovely. You offer the reader more than a story -- you share an experience, and it is beautiful.
very nicely done.
Some great bits in there. ‘I stand with my head tipped back and arms outstretched to invite the downfall. To feel the icy droplets pelt my flesh and soak my hair.’ I particularly liked. You even got me swap what I was playing on iTunes to a load of stuff by The Cult. :)
Thank you for sharing and welcome to #FridayFlash.
The response has been overwhelming. Having been 'dry' for a few weeks it seems, this encouragement is more than welcome. You guys make me feel like a star.
Thanks for stopping by and commenting on my blog recently. I appreciate it. You've got an amazing blog. I really like it.
This is really a beautiful piece of writing. Thank you so much for adding it to #fridayflash. Jen is right, this isn't a read - it's an experience. Loved it.
Thanks for sharing...wonderful piece. Been thinking about it all day.
Nice to read something different. Great use of precise vocab. Welcome to #fridayflash, apologies for the late response.
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