Hail

She was sat outside when the hail came. She had been thinking and drinking, letting the sun distract her. She had fixed herself a bright cocktail with an umbrella and a Maraschino cherry. The alcoholic proportions were wrong, or right, depending on how you saw it.

Which reminded her. Marcus. That was the probléme de jour. Every day. Lying, cheating Marcus. Husband of twenty years and adulterer for all of them. He had no idea that she knew about his philandering ways and she had no idea how to let him know.

She suddenly wished that she had been more ambitious. She looked at her shellac nails and saw them for the symbolic sham they were: an attempt to show a front of pristine perfection, the beautiful accompaniment to Marcus's striking businessman.

She took another sip of her cocktail. She lay back again, head pleasantly fuzzy, limbs languid when the image of Marcus and the new maid jumped into her head. She sat up again, feeling a little sick and wondering if she was getting sunstroke.

Black clouds gathered overhead. Where had they come from? She'd just been basking and now, she wished she had something more on than this gauzy designer wrap.

She suddenly felt very alone. She was an empty vessel for use as a tool - fill me up with an idea and watch me go! Marcus was the puppet-master, pulling her, never there by her side, always above and out of reach.

Then black took over as the hail came and rather than move, she watched as it plonked itself in her cocktail and stung her legs, cold, hard, unyielding like a punishment and she stood, arms out and let it pelt her, feeling each blow like a dart. And she laughed, mascara running, her body pink from its beating.

She had never felt more alive or more sober.

Eventually, it eased and she was panting. Surrounded by white pellets, she lowered her head from where it had faced the clouds and saw Marcus, standing, shocked and appalled.

"What the fuck do you think you are doing?" he exclaimed, harshly.

An epiphanic moment arrived.

"Leaving you" and she raised her hail-filled glass.

***

366 words

I return to moments like this in my fiction where a character has had enough, a pivotal event or revelation where they decide "That's it". I like the show of strength and resilience, that despite how hard it may be, it is easier than continuing on the same road.

Thanks for stopping by! If you do read this, please do leave a comment as I love to interact with my readers.

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