Writing Prompt No. 71
June stood gazing up at the sky.
She was at the top of a hill that had taken her half an hour to climb. The air around her was still and warm. The clouds bloomed into huge intangible pieces of white fluff that contained nothing but water. She knew it wouldn’t rain today. All that she’d known about the land had changed since she moved here.
Her birthplace was a country that was dry and waterless. The wind would often gather up the dust and sand from the desert and move it at high speed through nearby towns and villages filling every space with its tiny particles. Her own father died in a storm when she was ten years old. He was trying to bring inside a stray dog that had nowhere else to go. Six days passed before his body was found buried outside their back door.
June came here to study. To learn in this land where the earth produced bright green plants that she had rarely seen before. And the rain! How it fell in torrents filling buckets and gutters and drains with its life-giving force. Sometimes she liked to stand outside in these water storms holding out her hands, watching the splash of every drop spill out over her fingers. A heavenly place. They say one of freedom.
Feeling brave? Want to share your own version? ‘Let it go’ in the comments below.