The Kind of Rain.

When I was eleven, Samantha and I rode our bikes to the corner store almost everyday.  The place was run down and smelled strongly of dust but it was our favourite place in the summer time.  The corner store had a slushie machine and an entire aisle of 10 cent candy.  As long as we could fit it into our pockets, we were free to buy as much candy as we wanted.  Each with our own crisp 5 dollar bill.

We rode back and fourth to that corner store all summer long.  I wish I could say each ride was memorable and meaningful but most of them are blurred together now.  Sun on my back and wind in my hair is as vivid as it gets.

Except for that one day when it rained.  The clouds had been growing darker throughout the morning but it was hot, stiflingly hot.  It seemed that the only way to quell the heat was to drink an ice cold slushie.  So against my mothers warning we set off, me and sam, on our bikes.

Samantha got a red slushie and I got a blue one.  As we guzzled them back, the ground shook with the sound of thunder.  Loud.  Frightening.  Exciting.  I’m positive that I have never peddled faster or harder in my entire life, bent low over the handle bars we raced against mother nature. Just not fast enough.

The skies opened up as we turned onto my street. Laughing and squealing we made for the garage but we were drenched and no amount of shelter was going to change that. It was the kind of rain that feels warm when it touches your skin. The kind of rain that starts heavy but quickly becomes gentle. The kind of rain where the sun turns the droplets orange. The kind of rain where you can see rainbows if you look hard enough. The kind of rain that entices you to dance and splash and run and play.

And so we did.

dancing_in_the_rain


This is a fictional piece of creative writing based on a real event from my childhood. While I do not consider myself a “writer”, I do enjoy experimenting from time to time. Thanks for reading!

Alex

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