Let Me Tell You a Story

November 2003

November Rain                                     by Pauline Power   

The weather forecast predicted rain that day. I, however, was determined that nothing would prevent me completing my task. Besides, a few raindrops never hurt anyone!
And so I began my journey, hoping that the heavy grey clouds overhead would magically disappear. Realistically though, I would have accepted a shower or two, but only if they were reasonably dispersed. Somehow I knew I would be disappointed.

A few miles from home the sky began to grow darker, slowly at first, then with lightening speed. Subconsciously I grabbed the steering wheel tighter and waited. Seconds later the first drops landed on the windscreen. I waited a few moments more. Then…. nothing. Minutes seemed to tick slowly by. I dared glance upwards. Momentarily hope returned- perhaps the rain would content itself with that brief visit. How wrong I was! Without warning the windscreen was subjected to the persistent dancing of raindrops upon the glass. The wipers, even on full speed, failed miserably in their attempt to quell the incessant out-burst. I, meanwhile, struggled to see through the window, in a desperate attempt to maintain my position on the road.

Almost as quickly as it had started the onslaught abated. Within moments the raindrops tiptoed quietly away. The wipers, still working overtime, welcomed the respite of the intermittent speed. I relaxed my grip on the steering wheel. The tension eased from my body.

The rest of my journey passed without incident, although the rain continued to playfully tease the windscreen with soft caresses. As I approached the shopping centre however, I was predictably disappointed. The queue of traffic ahead of me was disheartening. Innocently I had believed that the rain might deter others from venturing out. I hated waiting in traffic, moving only in centimetres and constantly on the alert in case another driver might try to overtake me.

The rain became more insistent again. I had hoped I might arrive in the actual building without getting too wet, but that possibility seemed highly unlikely at this stage. I began to regret my earlier decision. Conflicting images fought for space in my mind. The first consisted of my dry warm sitting room. The second picture I tried to banish from my mind, but it being the more realistic option, it lingered, unwilling to consider defeat. Two hours from now I would be standing in the parking lot, damp clothed clutched tightly to my body, frantically trying to place my weekly groceries in the boot of my car.

My mood darkened. Such a foolish and useless endeavour. I would never find a parking space on such a day. I considered driving out of the car-park and simply going home. Just then I noticed a car slowly reverse out of a parking spot ahead of me. I thanked the gods above. The space was directly across from the trolley bay. Not wanting to put the other driver under pressure, I slowed the car and waited. Attempting to combat the growing condensation, I rolled down my window. Just then. I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. I turned and looked. Standing at the trolley bay was a boy. At a guess he was eight or nine years old, his hair hung limp and his coat was wide open. In his hand he clutched a half empty crisp bag. He seemed totally at ease, completely oblivious to the rain. As I watched he looked quickly around him. Then quick as a flash he stuck out his tongue and licked the falling raindrops from the wet pole of the trolley bay, obviously savouring the taste. He caught my surprised glance, shrugged his shoulders and said,

 “I only had enough money for the crisps!”

by Pauline Power

Pauline Power (c) copyright.