The Rain

It was polite of the rain to fall during the night and clear up during the day. I appreciated everything the master of the universe did for me today, because I planned a hike to the farm fields. There was nothing worse than carrying a week’s supply of vegetables home in the rain.

Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “the rain.”

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Author: Virginia DeBolt

Writer and teacher who writes blogs about web education, writing practice, and pop culture.

10 thoughts on “The Rain”

  1. It rained doorknobs again yesterday. It was better than frogs – Emma hated picking up hundreds of squished little bodies scattered over her garden. But then, other places got pancake rains, chocolate rains, and on one memorable occasion, a money rain in a nearby village. Why was her town so unlucky?

  2. Until today I didn’t realize why I kept humming “The Rain In Spain Falls Mainly In the Plain” in recent weeks. The confluence of Jewish Yom Kippur, presence of Pope Francis on this side of the Atlantic, Viola Davis baring her heart about the inequality of women (especially they of color)in public, a Mercy sister recently proclaiming that only gender equality has the power to stem violence & poverty worldwide are behind it I finally figured. The storyline of MY FAIR LADY is feminist, but told against familiar sexist background: “Why Can’t a Woman Be Like a Man?” “The Rain….” song is pivotal for Eliza and therefore for the rest of us. Before she was compliant but after – a new person. She saw herself as equal but definitely not mirror-image of a male. Now I realize “The Rain in Spain Falls Mainly In the Plain” is a clarion call to all women. Although unaware, my humming was/is/will be an act of solidarity.

  3. I am wild about the scripture that says the Lord will come to us like the rain. In one of the minor prophets, I believe. We do not always see the Lord or feel Him, but He is no less present than the water droplets in the air. With just the right conditions, the water will fall. His blessings come like the rain, but He does not spoil us. At least not in Tucson climate. We have to wait for Him sometimes. And then comes the treat of His visible presence. Desert rain mirrors divine satiation of our thirsts. Mercy falleth like the rain, yes?

  4. The rain had gathered momentum now. Large raindrops, slapped sloppily against the windscreen and a sheet of water steadily seeped from underneath the overworked wipers. They were spraying the raincoated pedestrians , with formidable waves of puddle water.
    The crossing appeared as a shimmering lake, with a foot of water. The traffic policeman stood at his post, an island amidst impatient , honking traffic and water sloshing around his wellingtons.
    “We will never make it.” He waved his arm despondently at the 2km long line of vehicles, slowly snaking past , all wipers furiously at work.
    His breath fogged the glass immediately.
    She took the piece of cloth, hanging from the hand brake, and mopped the glass.A silent prayer to the Lord , to please let the school gates be open.
    The watchmen were likely to shut the gates and disappear into their foxholes, blind and deaf to fog lights and honking even.
    “We will be the last parents to pick our child up.”
    “I am sure there will be others , thanks to the rain.”
    Near the locked gates, a small figure hunched in the rain, drenched to the skin,wrapping her arms around her.
    “My baby!! ” She shrieked as he braked hard.

  5. “María, hija! How many times do I have to remind you that it is bad luck to open an umbrella indoors?”

    María clutched tightly onto her umbrella. “But Mamá,” she pouted, “I can’t stand the rain anymore! Look at my clothes; they are all soaked through!” Her mother looked at the girl’s clothes; they were indeed soaking wet. Thankfully, her teenage daughter was wearing black, as the rest of them were, and the situation revealed nothing that should not be revealed.

    “Just bear with it, hija,” she said, in her most consoling motherly voice. “The service will be over soon. And hide that thing, please; it is scandalous to the Lord.”

    María took a deep breath and swallowed whatever protest she wanted to say. There was no sense in arguing with her mother. She slid her umbrella, a pink frilly classic parasol-type with a Tweety Bird design, into the space beneath the chair, hiding it behind her long black skirt, which was, like the rest of her clothes, heavily soaked.

    María clutched tightly onto her umbrella. “But Mamá,” she pouted, “I can’t stand the rain anymore! Look at my clothes; they are all soaked through!” Her mother looked at the girl’s clothes; they were indeed soaking wet. Thankfully, her teenage daughter was wearing black, as the rest of them were, and the situation revealed nothing that should not be revealed.

    “Just bear with it, hija,” she said, in her most consoling motherly voice. “The service will be over soon. And hide that thing, please; it is scandalous to the Lord.”

    María took a deep breath and swallowed whatever protest she wanted to say. There was no sense in arguing with her mother. She slid her umbrella, a pink frilly classic parasol-type with a Tweety Bird design, into the space beneath the chair, hiding it behind her long black skirt, which was, like the rest of her clothes, heavily soaked.

    continued: https://potatopizzaburger.wordpress.com/2015/09/23/writing-prompt-the-rain/

  6. When Pope Francis left the island of Cuba yesterday to continue his trip to the United States, the rain started to fall on the island. The newscasters covering the story of the Pope’s visit to the island stated that it was good it had not rained while the Pope was being paraded through the streets of Santiago de Cuba waving to the joyous crowds flanking the streets. My thought on that comment was that God was actually crying because the ray of hope that had brightened the lives of the Cuban people for the past four days, was gone.

  7. The rain….oh, I love the spring rain which smells so fresh and falls so gently on the earth. I can hear the gentle raindrops falling and helping all my garden plants to grow and gently come up through the earth which has hidden and protected them throughout the winter. But when the rain falls during a strong storm along the shore here in Downeast Maine, it can be so frightening. It pounds relentlessly; its wind blows the darned chimney cap off the roof top; bends the shrubs and trees to its demands. Ahoy, get the lifeboats out…it’s a coming. We’ll surely float down the damned hill into the Bay now. Too much rain! Swim fast or hold on to your Mae West now ye Mainers.

  8. The rain drippled heavily on the roof he kitted out of mettal sheets. He had hoped that it would hold back the rain, but all across it was leaky. The green fluid ran through the holes he oversaw, but what could you have asked of a man with no arms.

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