Rain of Terror

Car, Blur, Blurry, Background Bokeh, Bright, Lamp, City

As the rhythmic beat of the wipers competed with the ebb and crescendo of the drumming of the rain, Mort watched as the motorists whose only ailment was an allergy to getting rained-on scrambled from the disabled parking spaces. Mort watched, and thought to himself how much he hated the task which lay before him; but his mission – as feared and despised as death itself – beckoned. He took a deep breath, then adjusting the rain cover on his uniform cap, he grabbed his ticket book and exited the Parking Control vehicle.



The Tease

Grass, Natural, Garden, Floral, Dry


Dust-dry ground heated

And soon to be baked by the sun

Bleached grass and receding ponds

E’er since the Spring begun.

Where are those kisses of moisture sweet,

Those drops of cooling life?

Wispy cloud pass over head

But their rich treasures they withhold.

Then it happens a few sharp drops,

Bullet-like pelt the ground.

Dust explodes from impact firm

But then the barrage does cease

The teasing done, the clouds move on

Leaving the sun to bake in peace




dVerse – Rain