Writing Club
Mar 1 2014
Rain like tears and rage
Prompt: Write about the time the rain didn’t stop...
Prompt: Write about the time the rain didn’t stop...
It started as a gentle shower and we
were all so thankful as the droplets landed with puffs of dust into parched
topsoil bringing with it the life giving promise of a harvest and green grass
again. The corn had curled straight in a
last ditch effort straining towards the cloudless sky in dry desperation and
the grass had long baked brown and crunched underfoot. We ran outside to revel in the rain's refreshment. Revitalized, hand in hand we retired to the porch, hopes of a harvest renewed. With the refreshing drink the fields
themselves seemed to sigh with relief.
A blessing become a curse as the unending patter on the tin roof above became a pounding racket lasting through the sleepless night and on into the next day. The million dollar steady rain grew into an outpouring as the vast dams of the heavens broke and that’s when the deluge began. Gathering waters rushed down through the river lands in torrents, the fingers of the catch basin stretching over towns and fields to claw lock, stock and barrel away a harvest of destruction for itself. The murky brown surge mercilessly striping the land bare, rending trees from roots, home from foundation, child from mother in its wake. All lost as fodder for the beast itself, debris added to debris arming the flood waters, building to a crescendo as the scourging swell in came to fall in torqued embrace upon the levee. Rise and wash, spill, foam and froth, all awash and sent a sea.
A blessing become a curse as the unending patter on the tin roof above became a pounding racket lasting through the sleepless night and on into the next day. The million dollar steady rain grew into an outpouring as the vast dams of the heavens broke and that’s when the deluge began. Gathering waters rushed down through the river lands in torrents, the fingers of the catch basin stretching over towns and fields to claw lock, stock and barrel away a harvest of destruction for itself. The murky brown surge mercilessly striping the land bare, rending trees from roots, home from foundation, child from mother in its wake. All lost as fodder for the beast itself, debris added to debris arming the flood waters, building to a crescendo as the scourging swell in came to fall in torqued embrace upon the levee. Rise and wash, spill, foam and froth, all awash and sent a sea.
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