Raindrops And Tears

I’m still struggling for time, teaching and marking, and marking and teaching, work is taking over and my writing’s sort of left by the roadside at the minute. But I do hate to miss the fabulous Friday Fictioneers, so here’s a little quickie this morning.


I didn’t ask for diamonds or a house in the hills. I didn’t ask for anything that I thought you couldn’t give. Yet here I am again, hurt and alone, listening to the patter of the rain as it falls.

Where the raindrops and tears splatter and tumble, like speckles of loss that sparkle and gleam, till they liquefy softly in a silent farewell.

Yet if I could make a necklace of raindrops I’d never want again. I’d never need diamonds, or rubies or pearls. I never need more than the offers I’m made. But raindrops, like you, never stay where they fall.