Here’s a short-story about a rain drop called Drippy. I wrote it in an alarmingly short space of time when I was huddled inside my families craft shop. My imagination suddenly sparked. I could write about anything. Anything my Nan asked? What about a rain drop…
It was your typical average day for a rain drop. Well, as average as it could get for a bit of water suspended several miles above the earth, casually drifting along a wide expanse of bluey blue. That’s the colour of it, really, the rain drop pondered. But there was one particular rain drop, an adventurous one at that, by the name of Drippy and I know what you’re thinking. How can a rain drop be adventurous? And how absurd is it to call a rain drop such a name? Well, Drippy was being rather unassuming that morning, chilling out with the other super condensed water droplets and was just admiring the view when he noticed it grow dark. He suddenly became plagued with worry and confusion as he felt his weight increase. Heavier and heavier he grew until he found himself fighting with gravity, an old enemy of his. It soon became all too much,his other water droplet friends plunging to earth beneath him, and Drippy finally decided it was useless. He would have to rain.
With one last look above the blanket of dark grey clouds that spread out across the sky, Drippy felt gravity tug him backwards, down and down. He reached an alarming speed, his brothers and sisters falling all around him. With the intense speed of the fall, a thunderous sound boomed all around Drippy. He whimpered, fearful for his life. Below, the patchy oranges and browns and greens grew closer and closer, the green areas spreading further and the orange areas stretching off into the distance. Then, with the sudden force of a lightning bolt, Drippy struck the earth with such force he flew momentarily back upwards, spraying particles of dirt in every direction. With a final splat he laid there. Still. His brothers and sister were falling around him, pounding into the mud that now grew wet and sloppy. Great puddles formed and water rivulets fell like blue ribbons down a grassy bank toward a great rushing river. What was happening? Drippy began to panic once more as he felt the current of water drag him along towards certain and ultimate death! It happened seamlessly, sliding into the river as one. It was amazing. A sudden sensation Drippy could not describe. Drippy was a river! Carving his way through the landscape, he tore through valleys and jungles, the great expanse of lush green foliage and exotic life a wonder to behold. Drippy crashed along like a great watery snake. Life up in the clouds, you see, was so dull that nothing really went on. But Drippy didn’t dwell on this, as the enthralling race through the land was far too exciting. Crashing over rocks and gliding over small pebbles, the journey was proving dangerous yet intrepid,as the landscapes and scenery began to change and rocks soon appeared to replace the shrubbery and trees. Arrogant now with his sudden power he disregarded the sudden flattening of the landscape and the increase in heat. Soon, the world spread out into a huge desert as far as the eye could see. Too caught up in the rush, Drippy did not foresee a great cliff that fell before him. The great tides below tumbled over and over, foaming frothy water churning through the air before hitting the bottom with such velocity that it sprayed for metres in all directions, before settling in a large oasis of still waters.
It seemed like years had passed when Drippy finally realised he had been stripped of his powers. He had now returned to being a single drip of water, sitting alone in the desert sand, meekly staring at the barren wasteland before him as it stretched on for miles and miles. It was then at that single moment in time that Drippy realised his destiny, that this was not the life for him. The sudden danger made him yearn for the peace and beauty of the sky, and so it happened as if it were a wish granted. The hot sun beat down on Drippy and his brothers and sisters, for hours and hours until he was nothing but a filmy mist, drifting in the wavy heat of the desert, ever higher toward the stratosphere.
© Jason R. Vowles 2014