Tag Archives: rain

The storm

Henry looked nervously at the tall oak tree in the garden, the storm swirling around its branches pulling it this way and that. He wished he could bring it in, offer up a cup of tea and shelter from the savage weather.

Henry closed the curtains, climbed into bed and listened as the rain lashed at the windows and wind howled through cracks in the doors, begging to be let in.

When he awoke, somewhat cold, the noise of the storm had vanished; instead the sound of the ocean calmly washed over him, and sea salt smells filled his nostrils.

c2a9dawn_q-_landau

 

Submitted for Friday Fictioneers photo prompt. See if you can write a piece of flash fiction in 100 words.

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40 days and 40 nights

It had been raining inside the supermarket for 40 days and 40 nights and Percy, who had been sitting on a makeshift island constructed from tins of baked beans, was beginning to get more than a little cheesed off.

George, whilst floating by last Wednesday on a barge made from sardine cans and baguettes, had said that Margaret made it to the newspaper stand where Nigel had told her the weather was set to change this week.

It hadn’t and Percy’s island was rapidly shrinking.

Percy sighed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his trusty Swiss army knife.

 

Submitted for Friday Fictioneers photo prompt. See if you can write a piece of flash fiction in 100 words.

 

photo-88

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3am

I’d spent the last few weeks staring at the BBQ; the lid of which was still very much closed. The sun had been out but the desire to stand next to a flaming pit of coals whilst being incinerated by the fiery heart of our galaxy hadn’t really set me alight. I’d began to assess the cost of the cream coloured kettle grill against the times I’d actually cooked on it since purchased.

The last few Summers had been cancelled, what with all the rain and hose pipe bans, so if my maths was anything to go by (and it generally wasn’t) then each dinner I’d cooked on the damn thing was currently costing an average of £42.37 a pop.

I’d spent the last few minutes staring through the window; the curtains very much open. My mind snapped back from the BBQ as lightning illuminated the night sky. The puddles forming in the flooded gutter bouncing the light around the street like an elaborate wet mirror-ball.

“1 potato, 2 potatoes, 3 potatoes…” I whispered as I waited for the rumble of thunder. “7 potatoes, 8 pota…”  The deep roar ripped through the air as car alarms wailed, dogs began barking and the rain lashed down ferociously.

Curtains twitched across the road. I waved as Doris at number 16 watched the storm with me. Sharing in this moment of natural magnificence from behind separate glass. Staring, wide-eyed at… me.

It was in that moment I remembered I always slept as naked as the day I was born.

 

Storm

(thanks @vicmaude for the fantastic photo!)

 

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