Doubt In Drought

• Sophie Clout, Grade 5
• Short Story
• 2018

A ribbon of steam hovered over the stove filling the room of a tranquil aroma. Tucked away in the corner of the room was a melancholy man. He gazed longingly at the rusted window, a sighting of a black canvas crammed with stars only in view. A cloud of red dust then arose into view.
Looming in the distance was some mechanism with hazy fluorescent lights that whizzed past the run down house.

The man buried his face into his palms. “Finacial problems, debt, now drought!” He mumbled. A blur of memories washed over him just like waves except they were extremely salty wave.

Hours had turned into days, days turned into weeks, weeks then turned into years. When the man was a young child he had a grandfather, however slowly as time chewed through into the man's grandfather’s life he had slowly lost his charm of happiness of which the young boy desired with all his heart. However, it wasn’t time rotting away at his grandfather's attitude, it was the drought. When the man was a child he was always extremely optimistic, as time grew old he realised why his positivity was always shrugged off. All this time he was happy, it was absolutely absurd he thought he could make others feel happy, he would think to himself.

How did he deserve to inherit a mistake like this? A storm of questions stormed him like a swarm of bees. He tried to fan away these questions. Why can't it rain? Why can't he have a better job? How does my wife put up with this! All of the questions had leaked out of his head. Finally, it was drizzling. Could this be it? no drought? However, the drizzle of rain was not what it appeared to be...