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The rain falls in steel sheets of destruction. Joy stands on the porch watching it rip into the draught dry crops, crushing any hope she had. Holding on to the half empty bottle she fights back tears. There’s no coming back from this. All the money, time, effort … pummeled into nothing. The fields disappear under red brown water. For months she’d managed to keep her farm afloat despite the draught, the famine. And now… it’s drowning. Last night she’d celebrated when the weatherman announced rain. She lifts the bottle to her lips. Tonight she’ll mourn the death of her dreams.
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A 100 word story written by Bruce Arbuckle, inspired by the random word prompt “steel”
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Bruce Arbuckle (felt.buzz)
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