Drip, Drip, Drop

Pensivity gives us three words for their https://pensitivity101.wordpress.com/2022/06/10/three-things-challenge-990/


Summer in Britain was like no other country in the world. It was the only place Helen could strut in the rain, wearing a summer dress and wellington boot ensemble.

Seasons weren’t strange to her – she lived in this funny little island all her life. There were days in February, when she could have a barbecue. There were days in April where the snow was so thick you could make snow angels.

Today it was as though the world freed her of all her worries. Just for one day.

She picked out the craziest colours for her dress (yellow daffodils). Her rainbow umbrella, each hue more striking than the next. Red, and yellow, and pink and green, orange and purple and blue in a circle of truth. Wellington boots; ducks of course.

She hummed her favourite tune, Singing in the Rain, as she closed the door. Little, warm, droplets of rain. Drip, drip, drop. She lifted her face and let them fall. One by one, a refreshing moment of fun.

A child again, letting go of her mummy’s hand.

It didn’t matter about the bills, or her divorce, or even the fact that her teenager hated her for not trying hard enough. This was her moment of freedom.

Published by writerravenclaw

I am a fifty something mother of two grown up children, and one beautiful grandchild. I have been married for nearly thirty-four years. My first book was published ten years ago. I wrote my book Sticks and Stones because of my experience of being bullied at school.

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