The Whether Channel
a Fictional Haibun
I waited none too patiently, at the curb—unsure if she would show, as promised. The steady pitter-patter of raindrops on the roof of my old Ford and the click-click-clicking of the hazard lights matched the pace of my anxiety-driven pulse. Cars puddled by, splashing my windows in their wake. The scent of rain blended with dust on the drought-thirsty street.
She exited the office building, popped open the teal umbrella I’d given her last Christmas, and surveyed her surroundings. When she caught sight of me, she took off down the block in the opposite direction. I sighed and pulled away from the curb without trying to pursue her. Then I hit my husband’s speed dial. “Our daughter isn’t ready,” I told him. “Rehab won’t help until she wants it.”
weatherman forecasts
rain, tears of disappointment
beware of flooding
Written for and linked to Gabriella’s Monday Haibun prompt at dVerse Poets. We are grateful to her for the beautiful photography she shared for us today. The pub opens at 12:00 Noon EST on Monday. The link will be open throughout the week. Please join us.