The dark clouds came swirling, rather ominously, across the sky. On the parched soil, a feeble sapling raised its head, looking above, waiting for rain. The street children danced gleefully with the roar of the crashing thunder.
There were those who felt the rain, and there were the others who just got wet, running for cover. From my window, I witnessed a burst of happiness as the downpour came heavily upon one and all.
(This week, I’m writing for the prompt ‘witness’, linking this with #FiveSentenceFiction hosted by Vinitha every Tuesday @ thevoidthoughts.com. Feel free to join in by clicking on this link and leave your link in the comments section.)
Reminds me of the first rains of the monsoons… 🙂 Beautiful imagery Esha
Thanks Sanchie. Yes, parched hot afternoons sometime give way to such downpours. And the smell of wet earth is heavenly!
You manage to weave magic through words… loved it…
Thank you so much, Pratikshya. 🙂
Yesterday we had such a downpour here. Just like you have described here I was witnessing it from my window and felt such a rush of joy. Loved your take, Esha. Very happy that you joined me. 🙂 <3
Thanks, Vinitha. Happy that my creativity did not limit itself by a crippling fear that I cannot even try it. Still a long way to go to learn the art but its great fun and thanks a ton for creating that genre in the first place and inviting us to join in. Trying out new forms is pretty challenging and fun too. Loving it 🙂