Over at The Writer's Hole Christine is holding a Rainy Day Blogfest. Splash on over and read everyone's entries. We're having triple digit temps here in California, so this is quite refreshing for me.
This little scene involves two characters from my fantasy enovel, Syzygy, available on Smashwords and Amazon. This scene isn't in the book. I wrote it especially for the blogfest.
One more tid-bit before I jump into it- found this article about what you're smelling in the air after the rain.
Now, without further ado...
Rainy Day with Sam and Bea
Bea flipped back her black hair and leaned over her notebook to add shading to the hat she had doodled.
"Bea, it's raining."
She dropped her pencil and sprang up at the sound of Sam's words and hurried to join him at the open kitchen window.
Rain pinged as it hit Sam's bike, which was parked just outside the window. Drops pattered on the roof and somewhere out there it was trickling like the sound of a tiny brook. Sniffing the air- moist, sweet, and earthy, almost made Bea's mouth water.
"Rain." It was like a mystical phenomenon for the two friends who'd grown up in sunny California where the word "drought" was muttered ruefully every year.
"Yes!" Bea punched the air with a leap and knocked into Sam's skinny arm, jostling his cup of cola.
Sam licked soda off his thumb. "I'm going out."
"Wait for me," said Bea.
"You snooze, you lose. It might not last."
Three-and-a-half minutes later, Bea sprinted down the front porch to join Sam on the concrete path which was darkened from the rain to a steely gray that matched the sky. She tipped her head back and let the raindrops pepper her cheeks, lips, and eyelids.
"You like the rain," said Sam with a note of skepticism, "but you have to get into all of this gear to go out in it?"
"I love the rain and I'm excited for an excuse to wear my new things." Bea looked down to admire her black raincoat spotted with little white lightning bolts and her matching rubber boots, which were tasting a puddle for the first time. Then she noticed Sam's bare feet. She giggled at him in his "Edward Scissorhands" t-shirt and shorts. "Aren't you cold?"
"Nope." When he shook his wet head, his blonde hair remained plastered down. "I'd run naked in the rain if I could."