She was in a good mood that day. Giggling, playful and occasionally, teasing. She watched them, a smile playing on her lips, as they did the silly yet endearing things they were prone to doing on days like these; smiling gleefully at the sky and squinting when their eyelashes caught raindrops, sticking their arms out of windows, doors, canopied balconies, as if hoping to catch a cloud and set it free.
She watched them as they scurried about, looking like colourful mushrooms which had swallowed giant spiders. And then laughed hard as a strong gust hit the mushrooms and flipped them upside down, into a field of swaying multi-coloured, many-patterned poppies on decidedly wobbly stems.
They really were quite amusing.
The others were smarter. None of the pointless running around in flimsy (supposedly) protective skins, none of that they-can’t-get-along-without-me silliness, no exaggerated self of self-importance, which was, in her opinion, the way it should be.
“They should be taking shelter” she thought. “Huddling together in the shade of trees, under rocks, in caves…they should be frightened.”
And slowly, the familiar annoyance of being taken for granted began creeping up on her.
“Enough of being the all-loving, all-caring, all-goddamn-giving one. It’s never enough and they’re never grateful, never even said thank you! Instead, they leach; take what they need right then, never replenish and never, ever clean up after themselves.”
“They need to be taught a lesson”, she thought, “taught that you can’t use others endlessly, with no thought of the consequences”.
“Try this for size, little ones”, she said, seething with cold fury, as she gathered up all the loaded clouds, flung them on the city, and watched them burst…sending them all scurrying, like little rats .
I apologise for the bleakness of this post. I *like* rain (mostly), really I do, but I’ve been marooned at home four days in a row, and it’s getting a little depressing now.