The rain melted with Helen’s tears as she looked up into a yawning maw of scorched grey clouds, wheeling and turning in a tempest far above. Were she able, she would have joined the thronging mass of blackening mists and lost herself to their fury. The green of the grass stretched bright as a challenge to the clouds above and she lay back, torn between worlds. She waited, water soaking through clothes and shivering her pin-pricked flesh. And there it was: the sunlight against the clouds – freedom in a prism of colour, her troubles tumbling free in laughter.
(c) Tim Austin 2016
Thanks to the tenacious Emma Rucastle for suggesting the word “Rainbow”. Emma is a theatre producer and director based up in the North West of England – you can reach her at @ on Twitter and at http://www.elartproductions.co.uk/
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