366 Days of Writing · Original Posts · Short Stories

Day 55: Drip

It was the first thunderstorm of the year. The rain was drumming on the roof, pounding it, actually. Sheets of rain poured down, obscuring everything in a deluge of water.

Thunder crashed; it rumbled and it screamed. Lightning flashed; it danced and it pranced in reply.

Inside their house the family grinned as spring boomed in. But, then,

Drip. Drip. Drip. Each drip like a gunshot against the leather chair. Three heads turn, identical in expression.

A leak. The dreaded leak. Feet scurried now- flinging open cabinets and fetching pots, snagging towels and taking pictures.

The first spring rain is not so fun when the rain has stopped everywhere but inside your home.

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