Rain [short story]

By Cassiel. 22/07/09, 04:56 pm

]The rain drifts down quietly, an ephemeral curtain drawing back to reveal a concrete stage; the rumble of cars and buses the growling ambiance of the scene. The players rush by anonymously, anxious to reach the shelter of the wings, where they can exit to the world beyond the stage, to brightly lit shops and cafés, their windows a tangible promise of cinnamon-spiced companionship and golden laughter. Above the dim spotlights of the street lamps, the sky hangs tiredly, weighed down with the darkly rolling clouds. A ghost bundled in a raincoat aimlessly walks through the milling crowd, before stopping to step disconsolately in a puddle. I watch my reflection ripple and distort into a meaningless swirl of shapes. A bench stands near, alone and abandoned. I scuff my way over to it, and gaze silently at the endlessly falling raindrops.

A sound pierces my lethargy, spooking me. “Hi...” the voice is soft, uncertain. “Do you mind if I sit here?”. I look up to see a pair of fern-green eyes looking at me hesitantly, framed by an angular face and bedraggled lion-gold hair. The raincoat he wears dazzles me, bright flames of orange and yellow contrasting with the rainbow of muted greys and browns around us.
“Uh... No, not at all.” I stumble around the words, obscurely embarrassed at having my isolation disturbed.
His face relaxes into a brilliant smile, a glowing lamp in the mist.

“Oh good. I thought you might be waiting for someone here.”

“No,I'm not waiting for anybody... I just don't have anywhere else to go.” I murmur quietly to myself, hoping that he doesn't hear the sadness coloring my voice, but he seems to catch it and frowns. I expect that to be the end of our conversation, and his next question catches me completely unprepared.

“Do you like looking at the rain?”

[size=9]I turn and look at him curiously, but he is simply watching the clouds pass by. A small smile flickers onto his face, and he asks another question “Are you lonely?” I don't answer, but he continues on regardless. “I think I know how you feel. “I think I know how you feel. There's a void that nothing seems to fill, and it aches. You watch the rain because it matches the way you feel. But you should remember it can be beautiful too.” He points to the rain by the street lamp. “See the way the light sparkles through it?”

I nod, suddenly able to see what he was describing. Before it had simply melted into the background, another detail on the backdrop of the scene. “Yeah. I see it...” He turned to face me, completely serious. “You should always look. The world is a beautiful place, but you need to make yourself see it, otherwise it will just pass you by.”

I feel my lips stretch themselves into an easy smile, and begin to feel lighter. We continue to sit in a comfortable silence, listening to the soft pattering of the rain, until he stands up, and starts to leave.
“Thank you.” The words slip quickly from my mouth, but hang heavily in the air. He turns back, reply flavored with both laughter and the hint of a promise. “No problem. Maybe we'll watch the rain together some day.”
He walks off, a jewel-bright butterfly surrounded by moths. I am suddenly struck by the thought that I don't even know his name.

The rain begins to dry up, the curtain drawing the play to a close; the rumble of cars and buses winding down to a soft undercurrent. The sky hangs softly, a downy grey blanket I could almost touch if I stretched up high. I get up, making for the shelter of the wings. With a last look back at the concrete stage, I exit to the real world, a world where there was waiting golden laughter and cinnamon-spiced companionship.

**Guest** Guest

Nicely done!
But you've SMeyer'd it. Cut half the adjectives and replace them with real words. Very Happy

The imagery is lovely, and very evocative. It's very easy to image in the scene. But I'm kinda confused whether it's just a miserable black day, or night?
I would like to know more about the mystery man - you havn't described his attitude very well. Does he move like Gandalf or Magneto? Is he proud or humble, is he spry or steady? Is him sitting next to "you" initially kinda creepy, or soothing? And I want to know the same about "you" - how do you move? How does the change in your attitude between the start and the finish affect it? Affect how you see the world - More than JUST the sparkles in the lights.
I love the transition in the first paragraph from the exterior to "you". Good balance of dialogue and everything else.

By Cassiel. 23/07/09, 02:35 am

I know I SMeyer'd it, but its for an assesment at school, and they seem to like that xD But thanks for the thoughts, I'll keep that in mind.

**Guest** Guest

Bleugh, screw NCEA.
I wrote MacBeth Fanfiction in 6th form for creative writing - on teachers orders. Do you get to do something similar?

By Cassiel. 23/07/09, 03:48 am

Nah, but in 4th form I got to write yuri fanfiction for school. It made me lol.

By MissEevee. 23/07/09, 03:51 am

i did the same, Rei!
yuri for year 10 English assessments ftw.

got an excellence too.
my tutor was a bit gurdging about it, but eh.
can't deny amazing subject matter, ja ne? Razz

i like the story as well, and agree with the smeyerisation.
it'd be a lovely story if you didn't have to follow the silly NCEA.

**Sponsored content**