Whispers in the Downpour, flash fiction by Peter Rehn at Spillwords.com

Whispers in the Downpour

Whispers in the Downpour

written by: Peter Rehn

 

Chris stood on top of the hill, soaked by the rain, looking down at what had been a village just thirty minutes ago. A village he had called home for so many years.

Now all he could see were parts of buildings sticking up from the murky water that had ripped it apart, sweeping it down the valley. Only his memories remained, but, right now, even they felt drowned.

It had been sudden, only taken minutes to crush what had taken centuries to build. He had been extremely lucky to not be at home when the flood hit.

He saw no one else. He was the sole survivor.

“You look upset,” a voice said, the rain.

“I am,” Chris replied. “Why did you do this? Why destroy everything?”

The air hung thick, droplets slowing just slightly, as if listening. Then the soft voice returned, echoing like a whisper carried by thunder.

“I don’t have powers to choose where I fall. I don’t build. I don’t destroy. Nature is unpredictable, and so am I.”

Chris clenched his fists. “Don’t give me riddles.”

He turned away, shaking.

“That was my home. My family might be down there. You destroyed it. And me.”

“I remember their laughter. Their warm roofs. I slid down windows where children watched me. I cooled brows and watered gardens. I was gentle, once.”

“Then what changed?”

“People stopped listening. Society ignored the warnings.”

Chris frowned. “Listening?”

“To the soil. To the rivers. To the sky. They built more. Dug deeper. Wrapped the hills in stone. I warned them, in drizzles and storms. But they built walls and called me a nuisance. Greed took over. Nature became a given that no one cared about. They pretended yes, but honestly, comforts were much more important.”

“You could’ve stopped.”

“Could you stop breathing?”

Chris took a shaky breath. “You’re not alive.”

“I am the breath between clouds. The tears the mountains hide. I do not wish to hurt. But when ignored, I overflow.”

Chris’s voice cracked. “Then why leave me? Why am I still here?”

The rain paused. The wind stilled. For a heartbeat, there was silence between droplets.

“Because you asked why,” the rain whispered. “Because you showed someone still cares.”

 

NOTE:

Based on the Prompt – A Conversation with The Rain

Subscribe to our Newsletter at Spillwords.com

NEVER MISS A STORY

SUBSCRIBE TO OUR NEWSLETTER AND GET THE LATEST LITERARY BUZZ

We don’t spam! Read our privacy policy for more info.

Latest posts by Peter Rehn (see all)