March 2020, “Rained out”

Joshua Farley, Sophomore Contributor

This is part of the series The Creative News, which captures the “atmospheres” of feeling during the year 2020 as pieces of fiction.

    Folk-poetry was probably the right word for the things he made, as the challenges of the world certainly could take on the lens of the politics of a turbulent, unprecedented time. So disorienting! One great weight replaced by another. He retreated to his inner layers back then, as imagination seemed like the only place it was possible to float free. Rain seemed like the best symbol at the time, and with a smile he thought that it still held up.

     His atmosphere, just starting to lighten up after years of dormancy, could feel itself getting quashed, and fast. What was once a time of friendship was falling apart like a greeting card gone through the laundry machine. He knew the ground was giving way dangerously in that time he called the flood, but he didn’t trust he had the answers to any of it. He grew quiet again, and saved his best words to only be heard within the walls of his head. These were some that he wished he was brave enough to say to all the souls who would listen. . .

 

March 2020: “Rained Out”

The wind’s been blowing, carrying in the front. We could hear the thunder so clearly as we played outside amongst the hills. Still, no one quite expected the crippling might of the floods. It pours and pours; it doesn’t want to stop. Our friend the weatherman says there’s no end in sight. 

An equalizer, in a sense. After all, poor or rich you know the rain. Still, I wish the rich would share their umbrellas, spare their unsinkable ships. They just want to stand around and sing.

The currents rip and tear at us, carry us apart and into the night. Those with boats will paddle onward. 

All else becomes a ghost, trapped out of sight, lost in the caves and grottoes of the briny deep. A rain of sorrow, a pool of tears, puddles of isolation. Warm rays are sparingly found.

This strange place is adversity, the time is something new. Scatter now to the waves, but let your heart and soul remain open. In the rain, the worst and best are yet to come, together. 

For now, in these first few moments, all’s been rained out.