Can't stop the rain

She sat by the window and stared into the darkness. She traced the raindrops that raced down the window pane with a finger, trailing them until they were out of sight. The darkness outside was so complete that she couldn’t even see the farmhouse across the road but she didn’t need to see it to know that it was as much of a mess as her family’s farm.

It had been raining steadily, heavily, for about a week now. The road that ran through town was now a flowing river of mud and all of the animals had been taken inside after the first pig was swept away by flooding. Her family was a little luckier than most. Their farm was on the very edge of the little village, which meant it was slightly closer to the mountain and as a result, on slightly higher ground. People were talking about crops being ruined and it felt like she would never be able to wash off all of the mud that had soaked into her skin. They couldn’t get rid of the feeling of damp in the air and all of the clothes smelled musty from not having been dried all the way. It was difficult to dry them inside.

There was never any lightning, but a shock of thunder groaned down from the mountain, making her jump. She pulled her knees up onto the window seat with her, tucking them under her chin and wrapping her arms around her legs in an attempt to warm up. The thunder never sounded like normal thunder to her. It sounded like moaning. Almost, she thought, like someone crying.

She had mentioned it to her mother a few days after the rain began, only to get a smack. Her mother had told her that she was too old to imagine such nonsense. And that if she had time for such imaginings, she should get some work done instead.

But now there was nothing to do. No more clothing to mend, no more knitting, no more laundry and the animals were as snug and warm as they could be. So she just sat on her window seat and watched the rain pour down like angry tears, listening to that strange thunder echoing down from the mountains.