Our Gentle Acquaintance

I have never written a short type story like this, nor have I typed my words without stopping, let alone without editing before posting.  But these are my words as the rain sings.


Around midnight, Halloween's night, the rain plummeted down upon the soil.  It struck suddenly, without word, long after the children's screams and feet have been laid to rest.  A few lucky souls are out amongst the heathens, at parties or somesuch, but I am home, alone, with only a puppy and an acquaintance as my friend.

I've opened the door to scathe sounds of water dropping amongst the earth, trees, roofopts, yet hopefully not through mine above.  To a town as parched as ours, you welcome this long distance friend into your home.  Even splashed across your laptop, as I see him now.

I stepped outside to really test how fierce he'd come.  Pretty heavily, I murmured. awesome.  I watched in silence, hugging puppy Leroy.  Both of us alone. waiting for it to stop, like so many times before.  When suddenly we heard a clatter.  A racket, coming from next door.  Low, angried barks from one spouse to another.  I struggled to hear what they were fixing.  Heads bobbing, desperately trying to sort the issue our friend sprang upon them.

my tea is ready.  my puppy is curious.

I nervously look upon our ceiling once more.  "Was that spot there?"  yes, it's ok.  "Did that mark preceed our friends arrival?"  Hopefully...

I silence anything else around us.  The heater warms my back, while the cool hands of our friend gently pat my face.  I take a sip of tea, happy I rushed to make it.

I stare out into the yard, dim lights from the other house faintly glows into my eyes.  I think about Travis, knowing how sad he'll be he's missed this.  The old women behind us is stirring.  I imagine her hair in soft curlers, dirty silk nightgown, cursing in Polish.  She always forgets we've met, but I'm sad to see her move.  I think about my car and it's charger, fighting our friend for electricity.  I hope it's ok; he's never been alone with them before.

I understand why people buy expensive sleep machines to capture this moment.  The lull, the appeal, is quite dramatically soothing.

I don't want it to end.  I don't want it to end.  I don't want it to end.