1552. Everyone pardons the rain

(The closing sentence for this story was suggested by Uma of One grain amongst the storm. If you want to join in the fun of suggesting a future closing sentence for these stories, click here for a peek as to what’s what.)

Everyone pardons the rain. If it rains on a picnic it’s cooling down the oppressive heat. If it rains on the street it’s washing away the stifling dust. If it rains on a normal day it’s watering the garden. If it rains at a funeral it is tears of sorrow. If it rains on a wedding procession ah! it is a sign of wonderful fertility.

Bernice had no such worries for her wedding. It was planned for the dry season when each day for weeks on end would dawn warm and dry. The bridal party and guests would process brightly from the church to the place where the reception was to be held. It would be on foot, except for a cousin in a wheel chair; she would be pushed! The whole world could take part in the procession if they wished.

And indeed! The day dawned bright and cheerful. The wedding service in the church was so beautiful that even grandpa had to borrow grandma’s lace handkerchief to dab his eyes. And then the groom announced: “We invite everyone to join our procession from here to the place of reception!”

They set out. Drums and fifes led the way. It was the happiest of all happy processions! That was when the bomb went off.

Somewhere up there, the clouds murmured and groaned as fat drops of rain fell on the lifeless forms on the street.

16 thoughts on “1552. Everyone pardons the rain

  1. umashankar

    The premonition gripped me halfway in the story. The tranquility and happiness of the proceeding was beginning to create a disequilibrium in the fabric of space time when the antimatter took over. It is a sombre and a highly credible story in the light of what the world has come to witness in recent decades, and begs the question whether we are beginning to wake up or have accepted it as ’the new normal’?

    The stunning realism of the story might shield the eyes of the reader from the perfection and beauty of the composition. You excel as a matter of routine like the processes of nature. There is no first sentence, nor is there a last line: it is a seamless symphony leading to the crescendo. Thank you for immortalising my blog by offering it that link on your permanent epic.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
    1. Bruce Goodman Post author

      Thank YOU for the brilliant final sentence – with or without the “the”! Sadly, such a thing has become fairly commonplace. I sometimes think when getting groceries – what’s to stop some act of terrorism happening. Such has the world become.

      I’m not going to do any more first and last sentences for a while as I’m booked out until 2nd August with stuff and I get angst when people have to wait so long.

      Thanks again Uma, for the excellent closing sentence. It got the ideas flowing and you suggestion was a lot harder to deal with than might appear!

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply
      1. umashankar

        Stories with rain in them make me usually think of Hemingway. Now I can think Bruce Goodman too. I wish you the best for the forthcoming assignment. Do keep populating your blog too.

        Liked by 1 person

        Reply

I delight in having my dull life coloured by your intelligent perceptions, your wit, and your vivacity.

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