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Water

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Water was everywhere. Running from over flowing gutters, streaming slick-like down brick walls and fences. The drains had given up long since, throwing back the water in fountains of protest. It pooled into puddles on saturated lawns. A gust of air sent a drum roll of droplets across the polytunnel. Be careful what you wish for, Granny used to say, you might just get it. Who had wished for rain for the garden, she wondered?


Submitted PP July ’17

Besieged

The wind roared, battering against the walls and clattering the window. Rain richocheted off the panes. More unfortunate drops splattered onto the glass, disintegrating into a watery death. The building was under seige from the elements. Inside, a roar eclipsed the noise of the wind, and the fist of Brother Septimus hammered on his desk. “WRITE!” Frozen fingers gripped the pen and resumed their scratching at the paper. More than a building was under siege.

Paragraph Planet, Nov 15, 2015

Divine Intervention

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Rain thrummed on the roof of the car and streamed across the windscreen. Sooner or later she would have to brave the elements – well, the one element – and face the group gathered inside. Of all the days for a downpour, why today? She would have enough to contend with, she didn’t need to arrive looking like a drowned rat too. She sent up a silent half-hearted prayer to the God she didn’t really believe in. She only needed a few minutes break in the weather. Just enough to arrive at the church dry. Perhaps He could send a guardian angel with an umbrella? Ridiculous, she knew. No such thing as guardian angels either. The drumming on the roof of the car eased, then ceased. Thank heavens! She leapt from the car and made a dash for the church. Behind her, unnoticed, a sodden white feather drifted slowly down the windscreen.

This was my first submission to Ad Hoc Fiction. A weekly challenge with max 150 word limit. The prompt word, which had to be included in the piece, was “feather”.

Vengeance

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In the distance sulky clouds hung over the harbour. At the top of the hill, the wind shrilled between the cars. Tessa stood waiting, watching, listening to its icy whine. How appropriately Hardyesque, she thought. The house door, blue as a summer sky, swept open and a figure sauntered out into the street. Carefully, deliberately, Tessa released the handbrake, and stepped back from his car. The first raindrops, black as blood, spattered on the pavement.

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