ArtsAutosBooksBusinessEducationEntertainmentFamilyFashionFoodGamesGenderHealthHolidaysHomeHubPagesPersonal FinancePetsPoliticsReligionSportsTechnologyTravel

Rain Against the Window

Updated on July 4, 2016

A Note

I know this is highly irregular, but before I begin this story, I'd like to apologize to those of you who used to read my short stories, since I haven't posted anything in so long.The reason for my absence is that I've been working on a short stories book, a compilation of sorts. (As soon as I finish it, I'll post a link, by the way.)

This will be a very short story, which I hope you'll enjoy. Without further ado...

Awakening

The raindrops hitting the thin glasses that divide the inside from the outside forced the man to crawl out of his hypnotic sleep. Facing the window, he turned to embrace his wife. Only she was not there. He opens his eyes, slowly getting used to the overwhelming darkness that engulfs it all, to come to the awful realization that his wife is indeed missing. The sheets and cover from her side of the bed remain disturbed in such a way that implicates that someone pulled the covers aside and got out of bed. He traveled the space his wife occupied to sleep with his hand, tracing the fine details the years of use have created on the mattress. Heat was barely perceptible, but undoubtedly there. He sighed. It was not the first time she had gone to the kitchen, to the bathroom, even to the convenience store nearby to fetch something, but it was likely the first time he had woken up before she came back. He lifted his head a bit to check a hunch, which immediately proved to be right: the door was wide open, leading to more darkness.

He returned to his original position, to face the trembling window. It was rain season, nothing unseen of, but the rain was particularly heavy that night. So very heavy. That night seemed to be proving to be an unprecedented night in all aspects. And it was certainly, the only detail is that he didn't know it. Yet.

Actually Awake?

Missing wife, heavy rain, this was uncanny. Another person might find these things to be absolutely ordinary, if not commonplace, but this isn't the story of any other person, this is the story of a man deeply fond of the routine: the unchanging, constant, periodic routine. He never understood why so many people around him longed for so many changes in their lives throughout so many times of their existences. He simply couldn't understand this desire: why cherish change when being able to have an idyllic existence all the time?

Or maybe he was too melancholic. He clung so hard, to the point of stubbornness, to the past. Saying goodbye to his childhood home at age fifteen, a stage of transition for many, was one of, if not the hardest thing he had been forced to do. Now an adult, he always had trouble finding the right house for him. The elements it had to have been fairly complicated to come across: a touch of nostalgia and the reminder that something new awaits. That's why buying this house, the house he lived in right now, had been a joyous occasion, to say the least. It had not only greatly pleased him, but his wife, as well. What a joyous occasion, indeed.

Ah, he was wandering off into the depths of his mind yet again. Suddenly, the depths brought - no, spat out something back: was he actually awake? The memories he'd been through were vivid to the point they seemed tangible. And it was an unprecedented night. Maybe he was still asleep. Maybe it was all a dream. Good or bad, he couldn't tell.

Silence

He didn't know, couldn't decide whether to get up and go look for his wife or stay in bed and try to fall asleep again. The rain gradually decreased in intensity. Tne few scattered drops that still fell from the sky weren't powerful enough to cast the sort of noise the droplets of before had. No, these ones landed softly on the window, slid across it, becoming bigger at each drop it touched and swallowed, and finally rested on the frame, where they would eventually either evaporate or slide even further across the facade. He found all this very soothing, though the idea of someone or something unknown landing close to you and absorbing you disturbed him more than it should. It was all very metaphorical, of course.

Absolute silence. The rain had stopped and the insects in the surrounding areas were safely hiding to avoid that merciless current, so not even the noise of a lost cricket was to be heard. Silence. He enjoyed silence, considering it was such a rare commodity. In the middle of a busy city, with a busy job and a busy household, it was extremely rare to find a moment of complete silence. He even stopped breathing to appreciate it more. And, suddenly, a sound.

A Final Sound

It was more noise than a sound. It came from downstairs, probably the kitchen, considering the sound resembled a pot falling to the wooden floor, said diminishing the severity of the fall. His wife was likely preparing something to drink. Maybe a tea or even warm milk. He turned once more, now facing his wife's pillow. He waited patiently fo her to return. The day before had been overwhelmingly busy. Arrangements, preparations, all sorts of time-consuming activities. There was one thing that bothered him, and it bothered him quite a bit: he couldn't remember what it was he had worked on all day. It seemed impossible that he couldn't; it was repeated to him many times.

Albeit it did not matter much. He was sure, confident he had finished the tasks he was given, and in a very satisfactory way, too. He closed his eyes, decided to return to his sleep once and for all, now that all noise and sounds had been extinguished. Just then, the squeaky steps of the staircase were stepped on, a unique sound, positively distinct from any other sound the old house made. First, it was a soft sound; then, it began to gain sonority as each step was given. He was able to perfectly discriminate when his wife's feet touched the wooden floor of the hall. The boards wouldn't make a sound, but her slippers would. As with the steps, the aforementioned sound became louder and louder, until it reached the threshold of the bedroom.

He didn't decide to open his eyes, pretending to be asleep as a lot of people do. He did wonder, however, what was keeping his wife from lying down on their comfortable bed, right next to him. He wanted her to do so, but she simply didn't. He could feel her eyes moving up and down his ambiguous shape under the covers.

And then it hit him, the preparations he had been doing quite diligently the day before: his wife's funeral.

Comments

    0 of 8192 characters used
    Post Comment

    • Diego Esperante profile imageAUTHOR

      Diego Esperante 

      2 years ago from Mexico

      My pleasure, ninesonson, and thank you for your words.

    • ninesonson profile image

      Worraphark 

      2 years ago from Thailand

      This is a good story and you're very kindness for everybody, thank you very much.

    • Diego Esperante profile imageAUTHOR

      Diego Esperante 

      2 years ago from Mexico

      You're too kind, Siddharth.

    • profile image

      Siddharth Kapoor 

      2 years ago

      I enjoyed your story. Thanks my friend.

    working

    This website uses cookies

    As a user in the EEA, your approval is needed on a few things. To provide a better website experience, hubpages.com uses cookies (and other similar technologies) and may collect, process, and share personal data. Please choose which areas of our service you consent to our doing so.

    For more information on managing or withdrawing consents and how we handle data, visit our Privacy Policy at: https://hubpages.com/privacy-policy#gdpr

    Show Details
    Necessary
    HubPages Device IDThis is used to identify particular browsers or devices when the access the service, and is used for security reasons.
    LoginThis is necessary to sign in to the HubPages Service.
    Google RecaptchaThis is used to prevent bots and spam. (Privacy Policy)
    AkismetThis is used to detect comment spam. (Privacy Policy)
    HubPages Google AnalyticsThis is used to provide data on traffic to our website, all personally identifyable data is anonymized. (Privacy Policy)
    HubPages Traffic PixelThis is used to collect data on traffic to articles and other pages on our site. Unless you are signed in to a HubPages account, all personally identifiable information is anonymized.
    Amazon Web ServicesThis is a cloud services platform that we used to host our service. (Privacy Policy)
    CloudflareThis is a cloud CDN service that we use to efficiently deliver files required for our service to operate such as javascript, cascading style sheets, images, and videos. (Privacy Policy)
    Google Hosted LibrariesJavascript software libraries such as jQuery are loaded at endpoints on the googleapis.com or gstatic.com domains, for performance and efficiency reasons. (Privacy Policy)
    Features
    Google Custom SearchThis is feature allows you to search the site. (Privacy Policy)
    Google MapsSome articles have Google Maps embedded in them. (Privacy Policy)
    Google ChartsThis is used to display charts and graphs on articles and the author center. (Privacy Policy)
    Google AdSense Host APIThis service allows you to sign up for or associate a Google AdSense account with HubPages, so that you can earn money from ads on your articles. No data is shared unless you engage with this feature. (Privacy Policy)
    Google YouTubeSome articles have YouTube videos embedded in them. (Privacy Policy)
    VimeoSome articles have Vimeo videos embedded in them. (Privacy Policy)
    PaypalThis is used for a registered author who enrolls in the HubPages Earnings program and requests to be paid via PayPal. No data is shared with Paypal unless you engage with this feature. (Privacy Policy)
    Facebook LoginYou can use this to streamline signing up for, or signing in to your Hubpages account. No data is shared with Facebook unless you engage with this feature. (Privacy Policy)
    MavenThis supports the Maven widget and search functionality. (Privacy Policy)
    Marketing
    Google AdSenseThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Google DoubleClickGoogle provides ad serving technology and runs an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Index ExchangeThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    SovrnThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Facebook AdsThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Amazon Unified Ad MarketplaceThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    AppNexusThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    OpenxThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Rubicon ProjectThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    TripleLiftThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Say MediaWe partner with Say Media to deliver ad campaigns on our sites. (Privacy Policy)
    Remarketing PixelsWe may use remarketing pixels from advertising networks such as Google AdWords, Bing Ads, and Facebook in order to advertise the HubPages Service to people that have visited our sites.
    Conversion Tracking PixelsWe may use conversion tracking pixels from advertising networks such as Google AdWords, Bing Ads, and Facebook in order to identify when an advertisement has successfully resulted in the desired action, such as signing up for the HubPages Service or publishing an article on the HubPages Service.
    Statistics
    Author Google AnalyticsThis is used to provide traffic data and reports to the authors of articles on the HubPages Service. (Privacy Policy)
    ComscoreComScore is a media measurement and analytics company providing marketing data and analytics to enterprises, media and advertising agencies, and publishers. Non-consent will result in ComScore only processing obfuscated personal data. (Privacy Policy)
    Amazon Tracking PixelSome articles display amazon products as part of the Amazon Affiliate program, this pixel provides traffic statistics for those products (Privacy Policy)