They sat together on the porch at midnight, sipping
wine and listening to the rain while a single tealight in its little glass cup
bravely flared against the darkness.
She put her goblet aside and descended the stairs to
test the shower’s strength. Within seconds, she was drenched. “Come down here
and kiss me,” she said.
He shrugged and obliged.
They couldn’t decide what they enjoyed more: kissing
in the rain, laughing and kissing in the rain, or the kiss itself. So they kept
doing it until the swath of headlights cut across them in the liquid gloom and
their teenaged daughter got out of the car. Hurrying past them to get in out of
the rain, she scolded:
“Geez, will you two grow up?”
copyright 2013 Ruth R. Greig
This may only be a wee entry but I got lost in this exchange. It's perfect. Now THAT is good writing.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Beanie. Truly, I was just transcibing the image I got when Ter and I hung out on the porch last Friday night. Rain was pouring hard, the weather was mild, we were drinking (well, she was; I don't consider Bailey's to be alcohol, ha ha), and the conditions seemed perfect for a romantic literary moment.
DeleteAnd this little blurb ran longer than the scene itself, sheesh ...