Caught in the Rain

Caught in the Rain

By: Bikerider



It was early summer, the air had turned warm and sultry. The flowers we planted in the spring had bloomed, their colorful petals fluttering in the breeze like miniature flags.

But we didn't notice.

The last few weeks were spent bickering with each other. I couldn't do anything right, and my wife's criticisms were making me weary. I was getting on her nerves.

"It's our day off," I said, "let's go someplace...get out of the house."

She frowned. "When are you going to learn, Joe." Donna's frown produced a V between her eyes. "The things that need to be fixed around the house will not fix themselves." She turned away from me, and mumbled. "There are things that need to be done around here and he doesn't seem to care."

I turned and stared out of the window.

Donna loves crabs. There's a dock nearby where we were always able to catch enough of them for dinner. We hadn't been there in a long time.

Maybe getting out will do us some good. "Let's grab the baskets and go catch some crabs."

Her wry smile betrayed a lack of enthusiasm. "We might as well," she said, "it's obvious you're not interested in doing anything around the house."

* * *

We threw the baskets into the still water, tied off the lines—and then we waited. I poured coffee from a Thermos as we sat on a wooden bench, we took turns sipping from the plastic cup. The warm,early morning sun sparkled on the water.

"I knew we should have stayed home," Donna pointed, "look at that cloud, Joe." A large, dark cloud floated in the southern sky.

"It's moving fast, it'll pass us by." I put the cup back in the bag and looked up again. I hope



A heavy drop splashed on my shoulder as I pulled an empty basket from the water. By the time the metal trap clanged onto the wooden dock the sky opened up, and we were quickly drenched by the noisy torrent.

"Grab the baskets, I'll get the bags," Donna said. We scurried around the dock collecting our things.

"I can't believe the rain came on so fast," I shouted.

The driving rain came in waves as we stopped and looked at each other. Donna's blond hair was plastered to her forehead, our wet clothes hung heavy from our bodies like sagging skin. Sheets of rain water cascaded over our bodies.

And then we began to laugh.

We laughed like two kids as we ran to the car, and then something happened that had not happened in a long time—Donna took my hand. Even soaking wet, her hand felt warm and soft. She gently squeezed my hand and we stopped running, no longer feeling a need to hurry. We turned to each other. And we kissed.

"I love you," she said.

Her blue eyes were soft and filled with warmth and laughter—and in them I saw the pretty girl I married—and I realized that I adored her as much as ever.

"Let's do this again, tomorrow," I said. I kissed her wet lips a second time.

"That's a great idea," she smiled and leaned in to kiss me again. "I hope it rains."

"Me too."

Walking hand in hand in the rain, we fell in love all over again.

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April 6, 2011

Coloring The World contest for week ending Sunday March 10, 2011.

Prompt:

The rain has many faces. Sometimes it is so fierce it slices into your skin as each drop hits. Other times it is baby soft as its mist caresses the skin. This week's prompt, write a poem or story about the rain.

Word Count 473