Below you will find a short story written out of pure boredom on a rainy day. That's it. Enjoy!
I had just finished the last of the dishes when I heard the thunder. I knew Brentley would be under his bed at this point, so I poured a glass of milk. Turns out he was under his desk, but close enough.
“Honey?” I pushed his door open, plowing through his Legos and dinosaur toys scattered across the carpet. He could clean after the storm. “Hey you, I brought some milk. I’m guessing you heard the thunder too, huh?” The storm couldn’t have had better timing and my words were muffled under the blow of another thunder strike.
That last one did it, and Brentley began to cry. His out-grown pajamas were stretched to new limits as he curled into a ball under his desk, pulling the chair in after him to protect himself from the storm. Setting the milk on his bed side table, I crouched down beside him, my long hair falling over my shoulders. His blue eyes were turning red from tears, and with little to no effort I pulled his small balled-up self out from under the desk and held him.
“You know, you’re going to miss the race from down here.” I said while rocking him back and forth. He slowly lifted his chin up to meet my face.
“What race?” He whispered, as if speaking too loudly would wake up the thunder.
“That race,” I said, nodding towards his window without breaking our stare. “It’s about to start, I can tell.” It was starting to rain; I could hear it on our roof. As much as I hated living in a mobile home, I loved listening to the rain with a tin roof.
Brentley looked at me, confused. He jumped at the next thunder strike and hid his face in my chest, whimpering. I stroked his hair as I hushed his cries, still rocking him back and forth. “The race just started; you’re missing it honey. Want to come watch with me? I’ll hold you; I promise.”
He nodded his head, still pressing his face in my chest to hide from the storm. My knees cracked as I stood up and carried him to his window, placing him on my lap as we sat on his bed. “Look,” I said, rolling up the blinds.
He stared out the window, still hugging me for dear life. He was strong for such a small boy. “Where is the race? I don’t understand. All I see is trees and the car.”
“You’re looking too far, baby. Look again, but look closer.” I watched his eyes scan the window for any signs of a race, his tears still glittering on his cheeks. “Look at the window, not through the window. Did you see that one? That guy was flying.”
I pointed to the rain on the glass and traced individual drops as they slid from top to bottom. “Do you see now? The rain is racing.”