Category Archives: Creative Writing
Diary of a Scoundrel (Part 1)
Reproduction without permission is not permitted.
DAY 1
My wits are the reason I yet live, and the lack of them is why they all died, the fools. I write this journal in the hopes that one day someone will find it, and deliver it to my dearest Morgan. When last she saw me, I was boarding an honest trading ship bringing much needed cargo and stock to those desperate in need. The voyage was a simple one, without too many events. Oh sure, there was a sea serpent but that is to expected. A pirate here, a pirate there, nothing to be alarmed about. At least not yet.
Liquid Sunshine
Please feel free to link this little writing of mine, but remember to give proper attributions. 🙂
The sun was shining brightly – the sky empty of any clouds. By all accounts, including the ones of the two children jumping on the trampoline, the day was magnificent. Clearly the children believed the day to be nearly perfect, but what the day really needed to reach that perfection was rain. And not just any rain, no. The day needed a downpour, a true soaking was called for! Being children, they had the answer. An Indian rain dance. They were 6 at the time, and had been taught about how the Native Americans would dance when the crops needed watering, and so that the crops would grow tall and strong. Being children, a downpour would make them just as tall and strong as the crops. So they danced. In circles they moved, bouncing on the trampoline. Hollering and laughing and dancing.
At first, the sky refused to acquiesce. In truth, though, who can deny a happy child? The sky, being tolerant of children (in truth is was much more than just “tolerant”,but the sky didn’t like for anyone to know), eventually gave in. At first, it was a single cloud on the horizon. Then, there were more and many. Clouds of all shapes and sizes. Suddenly, the children are met by the blazing thunder and the deafening lightning.
The rain had come.
For hours in child-time, the rain came and showered them with happiness and joy. They were happy then, these children. A boy and girl. Cousins destined to love each other as brother and sister. They were closer than most, and they were innocent of everything that happened around them. They lived, and they laughed, and they loved. And they were drenched.
Related articles
- Come (rain) dance with me! (sheila365.com)
- Dancing for Rain! A Colorado Wildfire Photo Essay (susielindau.com)
- Rain Dance (shewriting.wordpress.com)