Rain

Last updated on August 25, 2020

Sometimes you see a prompt and your mind just grabs onto it and doesn’t let go until you’ve written it out.

This is one of those prompts.

Below is my response.

-x-

He sat in his comfortable armchair, soft blanket tucked in around his knees.

He was warm, he was safe.

But he wasn’t truly present.

Edwin’s eyes traced the path of raindrops on the windowpane.

It had been years.

Decades.

Yet the agony of grief lodged in his throat, just as raw as the day he lost him.

They’d been young, naïve.

Willing to do whatever it took to protect their country from Nazi invasion.

They hadn’t remained naïve for long.

The newspapers and radio broadcasts back home never spoke of what happened when great battles were fought.

They only spoke of the heroes, the victories, and the joyous celebrations that followed.

They made no mention of the churned up earth, stained with the blood of thousands.

They never spoke of the screams of the injured or the cries of the dying.

They glossed over the bloated, severed limbs, good for nothing but carrion for the birds.

They didn’t hear the sound of the guns, the booming of the cannons, the frightened tears of men barely old enough to bear the title.

But he’d had Thomas beside him.

His brave and beautiful Thomas.

In the trenches they didn’t care if they saw you huddled up with another man.

In those trenches, as close to Hell as a man could get still breathing, you grabbed what affection you could with both hands.

You never knew if it’d be your last chance.

Edwin closed his eyes, a single tear slipping down his worn cheek.

He’d had his Thomas.

Their hands clasped together.

Knuckles white under the mess of blood, dirt, and grease they could never scrub out.

His Thomas.

Always ready with a smile.

Even in those God forsaken trenches.

His smile remained even as they’d sloshed through the mud, the heavens having opened above them.

He’d laughed.

A jarring sound in the midst of war.

Edwin could remember him.

Radiant.

Head tipped back, laugh spilling from soft pink lips.

He remembered asking if he was crazy.

But Thomas had shook his head, turning his smile on Edwin, blue eyes shining.

“Listen,” he’d said, head tilting, smiling growing. The rain was cold and heavy, weighing down the wool of their uniforms, seeping into their boots.

But it muffled the sound of the guns.

The booming of the cannons turned into naught but distant thunder.

It hid the tears of frightened men.

Edwin had smiled back, finally managing to tug Thomas under cover.

Pressed together, Thomas’s head had been a warm weight on his shoulder. His smile remained, soft and almost content. “I find peace in the rain.”

Edwin opened his eyes, once more tracing the drops rolling down the pane.

There were no guns.

There were no cannons.

The world was silent.

Tears now shed in grief.

He had lost his Thomas.

His bright and brave Thomas.

In the churned up earth, stained with the blood of thousands.

He’d heard his cry.

He’d seen him fall.

He’d tried to go to him.

But he’d been forced back to the trenches.

Made to obey the command of retreat.

The guns had kept him pinned.

The cannons had him cowering.

The carrion birds paid no heed to his cries.

He no longer found peace in the rain.

It had been years.

Decades.

Still there was no peace.

Only silence.

And grief.

-x-

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Copyright © 2020 by Andi Drew
Title image from wallpaperflare.com