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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Silence says a thousand words.

Submitted: July 17, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 17, 2018



The Rain


She splashed in the puddle despite wet drops hurdling down around her. It seemed the whole city lay covered in clouds of despondence except the little girl in the yellow jacket sitting in the puddle in the middle of the park. The first good rain of the season, residents lay under their blankets watching Sunday afternoon sitcoms, unaware, or at least not terribly concerned about mister and misses Carver in their black rain gear, sitting in a puddle of their own on a bench dedicated to the life of a man they never knew. An occasional bold jogger passed, squinting, also finding nothing remarkable about the drenched couple watching their drenched daughter giggle at the water around her legs.

“She’s happy,” Misses Carver said.

“She’s lucky then,” Mister Carver replied.

“Where do you think she gets it from?”

“No idea.”

“Misses Carver, or Lilly as her friends called her, sat exactly two feet from her husband whose friends called him “big man”. They’d slap him on the shoulder and say “hey, big man!”. Lilly never understood why, he was only five-foot six.

“What do you want to do?” asked big man.

“Sit here,” said Lilly. “What do you want to do?”

“Not sit here.”


The rain thickened, sending the little girl running across the play structure to hide beneath the slide. She liked storms, but not too much of a storm. Too much of a storm always ended in something destroyed.

“Something makes daytime worse,” big man said.

“The rain?”

“No, not the rain. There’s just something about the daytime.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I know you don’t,” big man sighed.

“Maybe it’s something about you and not the daytime,” Lilly said.

“Here we go with the blaming again.”

“I’m not blaming you, I’m making a statement.”

“A statement,” big man repeats. “Okay, you’re making a statement. What would it be about me, then?”

Lilly shrugged, a frustrated movement. “I don’t know Daniel, your attitude?”

“Is that what’s wrong with me?”


“Yours is peachy.”

“It’s better than yours.”

“Everything is a competition with you.”

“Competition is healthy.”

The little girl emerged from beneath the slide as the rain trickled to a fine mist, and stared at her parents, her father hunched over with his hands clasped, her mother rubbing her wet forehead, brushing strands of wiry hair from her face that stuck to her red cheeks. The cold must have made them so red, the little girl thought, and she pondered the idea of asking them to go home. But the rain. She stared upwards and caught some light drops in her mouth; they couldn’t leave just yet! Five more minutes.

“It’s the awareness,” big man says. “That’s what it is about daytime. I’m aware.”

“What’s wrong with being aware?”

“I get tired. It’s a lot of work.”

“So, you’re lazy.”

“I’m not lazy. I’m philosophical.”

Lilly stifled a laugh. Big man smiled.

“I can still make you laugh.”

“And that’s a good thing?”

“Without laughter, what do you have?”

“Laughter isn’t a necessity.”

“But it’s nice, isn’t it? Just like divorce.”

Lilly answered with silence.

© Copyright 2020 A.D. Ware. All rights reserved.

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