Friday, 26 February 2010

Strange Kind of Friend (#fridayflash)

During the winter of storms, the night came when Mimi couldn't cope any longer.

Every night it rained, and every night it kept Mimi awake. The wind pounded her bedroom window with torrents of water. Thunder shuddered in the skies. And when the rain stopped, the dripping started. Drip, drip, drip, from the branches of the tree in her garden. Drip, drip, drip, from her leaky gutter, down the side of her house.

This soft dripping sound was the one that made her most angry. She'd fall to sleep once the storm was over, but the moment she lost consciousness, the dripping called her back.

Tonight, Mimi's anger takes control. Before the rain stops and the dripping starts, her body tenses with the thought of how it will keep her awake. Anger explodes inside her, and she finds herself stomping downstairs, then outside, slamming the front door behind her.

She forgets her dressing gown and coat. Her anger has pushed her beyond these. She runs out across the grass, slips in the mud, and lands forward on her knees. She wants to scream, to rage, but at first all she can do is flinch at the cool touch of the rain on her skin, over her shoulders, down her back.

Though it is a shock, it also soothes her. She stands up again, letting the rain wash the mud off her legs. The water, running down her body and dripping from her hair, feels peaceful and cold.

Inside, she wraps herself in a warm, soft towel, gently stroking the raindrops off her legs.

Back in bed, sleep comes easily. She hears the rain as a friend now, singing her a lullaby, calling her to sleep.

19 comments:

  1. It's all in the rhythm, isn't it, David: torture or tune. This one is a tune - a deft, light syncopation. I like. Well done.
    Simon.

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  2. The winter of storms... great first words. I love your metaphor of accepting what you cannot change, embracing it, and how that act can change your life, make you happy.
    (This is also what we threaten the kids with when they won't get out of bed in the morning... nothing like a bucket of cold water to change their outlook!)
    Very poetic and well-written. You're my first flash of the week, David and, as usual, you're wonderful.

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  3. "the moment she lost consciousness, the dripping called her back" - killer line. Marvellous.

    I had friends, all women for some reason, who would claim they loved to rush outside and embrace storms. Not me, I like to be sat on the radiator or tucked up under the duvet.

    marc nash

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  4. Well, it's chucking it down here in Leeds and I need to go out to Boots to get my lunch - but thanks to your tale I will enjoy being rained on!

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  5. It's all about perspective. I'm glad she found hers. Good story!

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  6. Awesome wordplay. It's nice they could work out a compromise.

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  7. This is lovely David. The gradual shift from enemy to friend is beautifully done. As with all your work, hidden meanings abound.

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  8. Sometimes you just have to get out there and do a thing to be able to rest. I totally dig that.

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  9. Many times in life our anger and fear is misplaced and facing our monsters can be healing. Intriguing internal journey played out as wrestling with a storm. Nice job.

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  10. Really beautiful. Love the image of the rain soothing her back to sleep with its watery cold caress.

    She let go of the anger/rage, the very thing that was keeping her awake.

    Lovely!

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  11. Winter of storms slew me - great opener!

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  12. Well done - some great lines - great rhythm

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  13. Haha--OMG I lived through storms like this in Atlanta too frequently for the past 1 1/2 years. And the dripping...thank God I didn't notice until morning, but it would last for half the next day. It always sounded like more rain to me and I'd have to look outside to see if it was still raining. I know what it's like to be driven crazy like this!

    I love the idea of letting out--and letting go--of the anger. The mud is great--both a connection to the earth and also, providing a way to "wash away" what was being let go. The rain becomes a type of baptism--but a washing away of the anger that keeps her disconnected from the earth (mud is washed away, but is a product of the rain, so it is not the "problem" or thing to get rid of, but a symbol for letting go--?). Enough of that...going on too long.

    Nice rhythms and opening line is killer.

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  14. Beautiful rhythm to this - embracing the enemy and welcoming it as a friend. Awesome, David!

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  15. I'll repeat what the others said: great rhythm. I like the rain, and this tale echoes my feelings. Beautiful.

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  16. Accept the things we cannot change...and you take it one step further here, embrace them, find joy in them. I love this.

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  17. Ah, very nice, it is all about perspective, isn't it. All the comments about a beautiful rhythm - I agree! Beautiful!

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  18. Love your writing. Good for Mimi.

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  19. Followed the link from your other blog and so pleased I did.

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