Picture Courtesy: http://thelemonfish.blogspot.in/2010/04/hillside.html

Little droplets of water slipped to join the tiny rivulets formed at the base of the window, giving the view outside a hazy look from the inside. Outside, the sky looked angry with ominous looking clouds trying to shoo the sun away. Funny, the weatherman had predicted a sunny day. But the now grey-black cotton balls high up there seemed otherwise. 

The wind, already wet with telling signs of a brewing storm, lashed mercilessly at the poor pedestrians running into the tiny chapel to take shelter. 

The church bell swayed dangerously screeching 'ding-ding-ding' in warning. With the last hint of perseverance, the sun gave in and disappeared letting gloom take over the hamlet. 

Having triumphed, the rain swept up as the wet winds whooshed through everything and one that came in its way. But Joe remained calm. Today the storms couldn't touch him. Nestled in the warm comfort of his home, the winds could not perturb him. His garden was a mess, a mucky gloop for a sandpit, pots and plants lay strewn and a tilted bird bath. 
It did not affect him. Not anymore at least. Anne would have been pissed. She would have ranted, yelled, stomped much to Joe's delight, and he wouldn't hear the end of it until the sun shone the next day brightly. But only Anne wasn't around. 

How they had hated the rains! It had ruined many dates for them at the foothills of the mountains in whose valley lay their hamlet. They had often visited, first as children, then friends, lovers and finally, as man and wife. They loathed how the rains rendered the mountains slippery, icky and full of muddy slush. How it prevented them from taking their picnics and how it ruined Anne's pretty shoes. Joe wasn't against rains, but that was until he met Anne. 

She loved the sunny weather, the warmth and chirping of birds, and so much more. There was no chirping of birds today nor was Anne. Nor was there the lush garden she had tended too. Anne had left him several years ago. It had rained that day, and Anne was wearing her favourite shoes. 

He was heartbroken, but he had to let her go. It had taken him 12 years to reach this day... A day finally when the rains couldn't touch him. It's cold, wet and clammy hands could not reach him. 

His life had revolved around Anne, and it was only fitting that when he decided to join her in heaven, it would rain too. Laying in his casket, The ever-smiling Joe need not worry about the rains anymore. 


  1. well written and as always, delighted to read.

  2. To be honest with you, I notice a poetry in your writing. You sort of painted a wonderful picture of the valley, the village doused in rain and the mood of the protagonist.
    I guess there was no gloom inthe air or the man but perhaps eagerness to be with Ann.
    The power of rain!

  3. This comment has been removed by the author.

  4. The end is beautiful!Keep writing!

  5. Wow. That is some good writing


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