How We Write – All Wet

The prompt for this piece was just the word Rain.

Orion tried to think of something funny to depict on this topic. Someone getting splashed by a passing car? Too easy! The end of the world in flood? It’s been done dozens of times. Hard rain? Perpetual rain? Well, Orion does live in the Pacific Northwest, so that’s a given, during the winter anyway. (It’s currently raining, in fact.)

Read on to see what direction Orion took.

This is one of the shortest short stories we’ve ever written!


I HATE getting wet!

Remember that snappy pop song, I Love A Rainy Night by Eddie Rabbitt? He didn’t know what the hell that guy was talking about. Rainy nights were the worst!

I swear, he thought, this rain is trying to smash me into the pavement. My hair’s plastered to me like a second skin. It’s coming down so hard I can barely see my path.

The wind whipping through the treetops kept throwing stuff at him—leaves, broken branches…even a blue birdhouse! Must be the Johnson’s, he thought.

Almost home. Just a few more blocks.


What the hell? he thought sourly. As if I wasn’t already soaked to the bone. That car came out of nowhere!

He yelled after it, “Watch where you’re driving, buddy!” Several heads turned to glare at him. One woman contemplated his bedraggled form with pity in her eyes. He lowered his head. Nothing to see here, move along, people.

He pushed through the entrance into the kitchen and the relative peace inside. The rain and wind clawed at the door behind him. It seemed to be shaking a fist at him for having escaped its clutches.

He shook the excess water off his coat, flinging droplets everywhere. He didn’t care about the mess he was making. Ah, blessed warmth!

He pulled a fresh towel from the laundry.

He’d just begun to dry himself off when she came into the room.

The woman screeched and began frantically waving her hands at him. “What are you doing with my clean towels?

“Scat, damned cat!”



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