Wednesday, 12 January 2011

It'll be story time again then!

I asked some friends to give me topics to write about, one friend said I should write a story about how the weather is always grey and people are depressed and only get one day a year where it's nice.

So I quickly wrote this.....

‘RARRRRRR That’s it. That’s bloody it!’ roared down the stairs, round the corner, over the cooker and bang into the ears of Loral. She jumped up, dropping the pan on the floor and hitting her head all at the same time.

‘Shhh….t’ she mumbled rubbing her head as she stood up. ‘What the hell is the matter Jamie?’ she called out to her sister.

‘My nails! It’s my nails. I’ve spent hours and they just keep flaking. I can’t cope. Look at me I am as grey as a squirrel….obviously not the red ones before you start…..I am sick of waiting around all the time for this damn weather to give up and to see a season…any season would be nice, I’m just so……..oh Loral you’ve dropped your cooking! That’s careless.’ Jamie chirped as she skipped off back out the room.

She knew it was her fault but couldn’t face another lecture by Loral.

Loral on the other hand looked at her sister with exhaustion. It was the same for all of them but Jamie always had to be so vocal about it. The girl had one volume setting. Off and on! Nothing in-between.

Loral peered out of the window. Another grey miserable day. This was day number 289 of the same thing. She wondered what all the weather forecasters did these days. You could set your watch by the weather now. At 315am it would start to rain. There’d be a mild break at about 9am and then it would drizzle until 5pm then there’d be cold wind picking up until about 3am again. Grey was the colour of the land these days. Gone were the lovely autumnal colours splashed across the skies and the pavements with what now seemed like such reckless abandon. So much use of colour all in one go. How they’d taken it for granted once. Now it seemed like heaven to think about it. To wish for sunshine and a clear blue sky. Still another 24 hours to go until they would get that.

Day 290 was now a public holiday. The whole world and their dog would be outside. Just being! Soaking up the sun, seeing spring appear for an hour, turning into glorious sun for the next 12 hours then autumn would seem to happen overnight. They had 24 hours of daylight on day 290. Day 291 would be the fading embers of the autumn night. Like the last sparks on a campfire slowly fading out, taking with it the sing song sounds of a campfire, or day out on the beach. By day 292 it would be back to grey. Like a colour blind world.

It never used to be like this. So Loral had heard. She’d seen the photos in her mothers top drawer, but it was always spoken about in hushed tones, like some dirty secret. The way the world was once. All taken for granted, and now? Well now it seemed to be that someone was punishing them for this.

They wouldn’t take it for granted again that was for sure. In reality it had only been like this for 4 years but it felt like a lifetime.

Loral longed for, even dreamed about waking up to feel the sun pouring through the windows.

A blue sky! Fresh green grass! Things that were once so simple.

Jamie was upstairs stamping about making so much noise that Loral gave up trying to daydream.

Loral scooped the (grey looking) porridge into the saucepan and chucked it into the sink. She hadn’t the energy to start again.

There was a knock at the door. The postman!

He handed her the post silently and walked away.

Loral heard the rattle and clunk of the milkman’s float and hovered at the door to collect the 2 pints they got every day. The milkman handed them over ‘Hello’ he mumbled and walked off without even cracking half a smile.

Loral sighed. Depressed! That was the word to sum up everything these days.

On queue Jamie hurtled down the stairs landing on the sofa with a huge explosion of air. Possibly her, possibly the chair….

‘Argh I just hate everything.’

‘Well hello to you too’

‘Oh p.iss off why don’t you’

‘Sadly it’s raining out so I don’t really have anywhere to off to but thanks all the same.’

‘Ok Loral I am sorry, I know we’re all the same I am just sick of it, I’m craving smiles like a junkie.’

Loral shook her head – she had no clue how to cheer her sister up. She used to paint pictures of sunshine, rainbows, babbling brooks all sorts of lovely things that well, you just couldn’t enjoy anymore.

If you went out you couldn’t wear floaty dresses, you had to wear big waterproof coats and trousers. So much rain would collect that cars didn’t care about trying not to splash you, well hold on, maybe that thing had stayed the same.

Come on day 290. To feel the sun on their skin was what they all lived for.

And soon. Soon it would be here.

But not soon enough for some.

Over the road lived Rory, she was a quiet girl, alone in her world of colour. Yes that’s right. She seemed to be the one rainbow amongst the grey storm clouds of everyone else. She wore big bright rainbow frocks. Not caring if she got wet. She had lovely glittery wellington boots and an umbrella that lit up with little rainbow effect lights. Her hair was naturally bright red and she always had some wonderful coloured pieces of fabric in it. Her nails were painted an array of colours and quite often she was clutching flowers and a book that she would cover and draw all over, colouring it in a wonderful selection of bright clashing shades. She was always smiling. Always singing a tune to herself.

The neighbourhood looked at her with a mixture of fear and envy.

Nothing seemed to get this girl down.

‘Hello sky! Hello tree. Hello worm. Hello rain. HELLO LORAL.’ She bellowed out – giving Loral an elaborate wave. Loral couldn’t help but smile. Where did Rory get her energy from. This weather just made you constantly lethargic but there she was, a big grin from ear to ear for anyone or anything that crossed her path.

Loral had been told that Rory was a few hampers short of a picnic but honestly if it made her that happy who cared!

Thing is Rory wasn’t simple, she just believed in looking on the bright side and looking on the bright side meant her world was always in Technicolor.

She also knew that day 290 that was coming tomorrow was going to mark the change of the weather, not just for the day but for always. Her father had been playing about at his weather station in the attic 4 years ago – trying to work out how to paint the perfect sky and to create the perfect beach so you could control the weather for the week day and weekends. He’d been using ridiculous chemicals, weird symbols and a bit dollop of electricity. It had gone wrong and the less said about it the better. The town had been suffering for 4 long years but the effects were about to wear off.

She hadn’t told anyone as no one had really spoken to her since it had become common knowledge that it was her fathers fault that the ‘world was like this. See it wasn’t the world at all, it was just this little town. Like a black cloud hanging over this little town. If people had bothered to look just beyond the borders of Cranely Village they would see that the rest of the world was carrying on as normal. The lack of seasons had just zapped them of any free thinking, any creativity or anything half fun. There was a lesson learnt there in itself…..never moan about the weather again!

Day 290 was almost here. You could feel the sun crackling over the horizon, spreading out, getting bigger and bigger by the minute. The sky changing from grey to beautiful shades of pink, orange and yellow. Hitting the water and making it look like there were stars right here on earth. You could feel the mood of the town lift, the birds were starting to sing, and the flowers were spreading out their petals to greedily eat up every bit of sun they could.

Rory smiled again at Loral, she winked and said ‘Everything is going to be alright from now on Loral, just you believe it and it’ll be so.’

Loral looked at Rory quizzically, she had never really spoken to her, but maybe it was the sunshine giving her courage. She raced over the road. ‘That’s an interesting thing you say their Rory, and I do hope you are right….say, I don’t think I’ve heard you talk before….?’

Rory smiled, ‘Oh it’s nothing Loral, just think I was feeling a little under the weather that’s all…………..’


  1. wow that was really cool
    im glad your friend didnt suggest writing about kitten farts :)

  2. Haha now of course I have to make it my mission to write a story about kitten farts and thank you for saying it was cool ;o)

  3. Thank you very much - it was written thanks to you :o)