The one time I attempted flash fiction and decided it wasn’t my cup of tea. Enjoy.
I did not understand. It wasn’t even the rainy season. It was arid, unfriendly November with its dusty harmattan. I remember using up an entire tube of peach flavoured lip balm that morning applying layer after layer just so my lips wouldn’t cake up. Afternoon had come with the air still dry and even worse this time as the sun was as angry as us all; attempting to roast every last person standing. I remember the whole day clearly. I had donned on my dark grey kaftan as that was the only colour the incessant dust wouldn’t mess up too much. Then night had come with its terrors to set my warehouse on fire. No one knew how it started. Then the rain began. Torrents of it poured and poured until the fire was no more, saving my life savings from burning up. Immediately the fire went out the rain went with it, both disappearing just as fast as they had come. When the firemen came and asked what happened, all I could say was the devil had come visiting but there was God in the rain.