Short Story Sunday-#18

   The Sky's Tears

The pitter-patter soothes me to a trance-like state as I watch the water roll down the windshield in small waves. Cool air from the open window makes me shiver, making me pull my coat tighter. Finding my book, I read for a minute, getting sucked into the story. I glance up. The windshield is covered with water droplets and no matter how fast the wipers go, we still can't see out. The road has become a blurred grey strip. I stare at the windshield and try to assist my mom in seeing the road.
   Soon, the wipers can slow down and we can see the road clearly. The dark clouds make my whole day dismal. I try to make the day beautiful. The clouds make way for the sun and it bathes the road in light. The sky turns blue and the water on the road dries up. Trees bloom as we drive by. Singing birds fly across the road, narrowly missing the speeding car.
   "We're here!" I get pulled from my imagination and the dark clouds deepen my spirits again. Water still streaks across the sky.
   I step out in the drizzle. My raincoat is spotted with water instantly. A plump drop falls onto my scalp, through my hair. My mom walks by with an umbrella and I hear little fingers flicking the soft fabric. The umbrella is soon soaked. I pick up my book and slam the door. The book gets slipped into my coat and I zip it up with a whiz to protect it from harmful water. The library would kill me. I look up at the sky and feel the cold water dropping on my cheeks. Starting to walk, I look where I'm going. A house.
   Three boys come running out. The oldest says "hi" to me and moves on to my mom. The youngest shouts, "Georgia!" and trots to me.
   One about the age of nine says, "Hi, Georgia."
   I smile and say, "How are you doing?"
   "Good." I hear the door open a close as another boy about my age comes out.
   "Hey," he says and I return his "hey" and their parents come out and greet me.
   "You're so grown up," their mom says as she hugs me. I just smile and blush. "Let's go inside." I notice the boys don't have shoes as their feet slap the pavement, stepping in every puddle possible.
   Just as I close the door behind me, the sound of water on the pavement becomes harder and faster. I sigh. I'm totally soaked head-to-foot. My nose dripping with water and my hair plastered to my face in clumps, I remove my shoes and take my book to the safety of the bedroom. I set it on the side-table and race back outside to get my bag. My raincoat doesn't collect any more water this time, but it starts up again a few minutes later.
   That evening, I lean against the window listening to the pitter-patter of the water. I press my forehead to the cool window and close my eyes. When they open, the sun has appeared from behind the clouds and the last of the water streaks down the window, chasing its friends to a puddle on the ground.