Waiting for a Crop to Come In

Pixabay

Janey stood by the water pump holding a bucket and scuffing his boot in the dry dirt. Dust swirled up around his boot in small clouds. It hadn't rained in at least 40 days in the desert butte country where water proved harder to farm than goats. He tarried at the pump halting his chore of fetching the water to watch a cloud float over the horizon. A white puff of cloud floating east across the desert.

A second cloud soon followed and then a third. It reminded him of the parade of white balloons he had seen in Oklahoma City when Judy the elephant was brought to the zoo. He banged the empty bucket on his knee and counted the clouds.

"Janey," his mother hollered. "You bringing the water?"

He pulled up on the pump, then down, until a stream of cold water poured into the bucket. A spray of water landed on his face reminding him of the hot sun and the dry day. He eyed the clouds again and concluded they were too far away to rain on him. Maybe tomorrow a crop will come in.

Day 542: 5 Minute Freewrite: Monday - Prompt: cloud by @mariannewest

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