A light rain, a fine drizzle
origin- Spanish
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Jarrad stepped a side as the bus moved lazily down the narrow road. The first two buttons of his shirt was open. He threw the tie away which had been enjoying the journey so far inside the pocket secretly.
A light rain was slowly pouring down rubbing his broad shoulders. But again he wasn't a pluviophile; a lover of rain. Dark mood swings showed different emotions every time as he stepped on small mud pits.
It was actually small village. Vineyards,a small book shop,one damp motel, a small pub and a grocery shop and that was the perfect panorama of the country town other than the endless greenery which ran beside. A perfect hiding away for a man with issues.
He arrived with the rain and exactly that's where he stood waiting for a peck of sunlight to shelter him. It was just him and the drizzle until he was anchored by long delicate feminine fingers wrapped around an umbrella.
"Are you in love or just an optimist who left the umbrella at home?"
"Huh?" He didn't even give a try to hide the coldness in his voice.
"Nope.. Just... Who else rather wants to stand still in the pouring rain?"
He blinked but said nothing.
"Here.... I stay right there in the motel,the only one in this town.. So you can come with me if you want ...just to have some warm coffee and all ...until the rain stops"
What can he say? He never said anything unless it is really needed. That was his nature and for 32 years of his life he was always the same introvert personality.
So just like that they had coffee in that rainy evening. Jarred didn't like coffee and had always preferred tea over coffee but today he kept silent and accepted what came on his way and so was with coffee.
Once they got in, all he saw was a mess of space. Clothes,magazines, books and cooking pots all were messed up and stood pilled up in harmony. A piece of feminine lingerie was drop dead on the floor which he made sure not to look at;not with her presence.
"Oh.. I know... I'm a mess but I'm a beautiful mess." She raised her hands up in surrender and shrugged hiding her reddened cheeks and the piece of cloth .
He said nothing at all nor his melancholic mood changed.
She kept chirping like a rural nightingale as they slipped coffee listening to the raindrop symphony facing each other. Little did she know that he was an empire who might keep her.
YOU ARE READING
Metanoia
Short Story(n.) the journey of changing one's mind, heart, self or the way of life. The sudden breakdown of Jarrad leads him to a rural village town near the woods. But in a little world, you can't help bumping in to people who could turn your whole world up s...
